Prude and Prejudice
by birobird93
Summary: During the sexual revolution in America. Away from the security blanket of religion, Edward Cullen hot crooner introduces Bella uptight prude to a world full of love-ins, sit-ins, orgies and LSD. Rated MA: I think I just said orgies, so thats why.
1. Chapter 1

_Hey guys! Birobird here, introducing you to my new story. I know I should be buckling down on the rest of my unfinished catastrophes, but I couldn't hold this one in. The chapters will get long further along. If I've made any mistakes, please let me know and I'll fix that shit up. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy!_

**Prude and Prejudice**

**Characters: **Edward and Bella

**Rated:** MA for sexual content, violence, language and drug use.

* * *

1968

Bella Swan sat in the backseat of her parent's red Cadillac _Eldorado_. The Swan girl was a small, petite, intelligent, charming person—brought up in a heavily Catholic, god-fearing family. As she turned her head to look out her window, the San Francisco air blowing through her hair and filling her lungs. It was Summer time and the atmosphere was warm and playful. She had just completed her second last year of high school in St. Augustine's College for Girls; an honour student and class valedictorian. Bella was well groomed, her long brown curls neatly set into a careful array all the time, tied into a bun atop the crown of her head or in a ponytail. The cool bite of sea air rushed through the open window, stinging Bella's cheeks in a pleasant way.

She could taste the salt on her tongue and feel the heavy ocean air whip around her. Bella's father, Charlie Police Chief Swan from Seattle, Washington sat contentedly in the front seat aside her mother, Renee. Smiling slightly at the prospect of new opportunity in this foreign city, Bella watched her parents murmur to each other. They didn't seem as happy as Bella was about this move away from home. Personally, Bella couldn't think of a better possible way to spread her wings. She would be the first girl from her school to travel further than across state lines. But it had not been for Bella's benefit that they decided to uproot and resettle in San Francisco; Charlie had been transferred from his post in Seattle. Not that Bella was objecting, but Charlie, however, felt disgruntled about being forced to leave his home town and pull his daughter out of school. He was a decision maker and disliked having decisions such as these made for him. However, he did not let his family see; Renee was indifferent about their new home—wherever Charlie went, she would follow loyally like he expected her to.

The car rumbled down the high way, the cars growing sparse, the roads narrowing and the buildings getting lower to the ground; hitting suburbia.

There were more people travelling on foot around these areas; Bella readjusted her position in the backseat, hitching her feet underneath her so she could lift herself up a bit further. She thought it intriguing, different people to interact with. _Martha and The Vandellas_ began to drum out of the radio.

"_...It's like a heatwave...It's like a heatwave...Whenever he calls my name..."_

Bella began to hum along, catching the melody of one of her favourite songs until her mother glanced at her reprovingly through the review mirror.

Instead, Bella watched the buildings whir past her eyes; bright colours, different shapes and scents. Bella was growing more and more excited about entering into this new world, one she would soon make her own. It was wondrous.

She prayed silently to the heavens for giving her such an experience to live; could this mean a task? A test, perhaps? Maybe God was giving her a gift. Whatever the reason, Bella knew that she was going to love her new city.

Car horns honked in the distance, car doors slammed, people chattered; their voices, different conversations faded in together and made more of a fuzzy background noise, like static from a radio.

Bella gripped the top of the glass window and stuck her head out, watching the street and it's many pedestrians who turned to stare at the girl.

She smiled at them and some smiled back; others just stared, some waved and some laughed maliciously. Bella just shook her head, ignoring childishness.

She glanced up above at the sun hanging high in the sky, only slightly obscured by fluffy clouds, the rest of the sky a beautiful blue hue. Bella thought it was absolutely enthralling to find herself here at the beginning of her Summer vacation; like a refreshing start to a refreshing new life she was about to establish from the base her parent's provided.

Bella thought about what her new room would look like with all her belongings in there; would it need to be painted? Where would she put her bookcase and her bed? She almost couldn't wait to get there. She absently picked the hole in the vinyl seat beside her tartan skirt clad thigh. Her knee-high socks were just reminders of her old school in Seattle—preferable uniform for the students there. She wasn't sure what her new school would be like, nor did her parents. They had been bizarrely sceptical about letting her enter a public system, claiming it would be utter parental negligence. Bella often heard about the types that attended public educational institutions. There were no prerequisites for entry so any old riff-raff could attend school there.

The thought of sharing her classes with an undesirable...

Bella didn't want to learn with a bunch of second-rate, hell-raisers, but she barely had a choice. She knew that her Father's pay had been reduced and that they no longer had enough money to pay tuition for a private college for their daughter and a public school would just have to suffice. It was only for one year, after all. But the beginning of school was still three months away so to be worrying about it now would surely sully Bella's enjoyment of her holidays.

Raising her head from the seats and looking back out the window, Bella realised the scenery had changed.

The streets were lined with people still; but they all had long hair, even the boys! They had scruffy facial hair and loose, baggy clothes. Some wore braids and had guitars slung over their backs. Crowds of people similar to these continued in throngs, strolling down the sidewalks in front of little businesses and shops.

"Hippies..." Charlie muttered under his breath, clearly displeased with their presence.

"Barely wash...look at that fella's hair!" he stated incredulously, eyeing a young man of about Bella's age with a long mane of blonde locks that looked greasy and unwashed.

"Bet he's unemployed, no doubt." He grumbled, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

There were long vans lining the streets, painted in a whirlwind of erratic colours, not at all like Daddy's, Bella thought curiously.

They sat in the back seats of their vehicles and chanted together in eerily calming melodies, some strumming indecipherable tunes on their instruments and laughing together lazily.

Charlie, none too happy about the new neighbourhood, slowed down to a halt at a set of traffic lights. Renee, sitting uneasily in her seat, began to fidget with her handkerchief then resumed a nervous straightening of her clothes and hat. She wore white, wrist length gloves; always the attire for going out. Bella felt lucky that she hadn't been forced to wear anything like that yet. That's not what all the kids her age were doing anyway. She would feel silly if she dressed as formally as her mother, yet she wouldn't be caught dead in a string-strapped camisole and a short skirt that stopped mid-thigh. She spotted a girl dressed exactly like that and quickly averted her eyes, embarrassed for herself and the girl that was sadly misguided into thinking that was appropriate.

Charlie tapped the wheel impatiently as Renee patted her peach coloured skirt and white cotton blouse and matching cardigan. Bella continued her silent survey of the area, still no more concerned about the city than before, if anything, she was more interested. It was vastly different from any place she'd been lately.

She supposed, but she'd never let her father know, that these 'hippies' couldn't be all that bad, the ones who didn't indulge in reckless drug use, of course. They can't all be unemployed slackers. Surely they were nice people anyway? Despite their lack of direction? Bella hoped so.

A ruckus broke Bella from her reverie.

"Fuck off! Pigs!" yelled a young man from over near a clothing boutique.

He was obviously being apprehended by the two policemen who had him in vice grips above the elbows on both arms. Judging by the look on his face, Bella discerned that he was trying to fight them off.

Excitement coursed through her and she leaned closer to the open window, watching the scene unfold while Charlie grew even more impatient with the light that would not turn green.

"GET OFF ME! I WILL NOT CO-OPERATE! VIOLENCE ONLY FUELS THE FIRES OF OPRESSION!" He screamed, struggling from their grasp.

He managed to squirm free from their meaty hands and sprint closer to the red Cadillac parked in the middle of the street. Bella, slightly fearful of this turn of events, watched the man run, his figure coming closer, his features sharpening into focus at closer range.

His bronze hair was not as long as the rest of the men around here, but it wasn't neatly cropped either, it was messy and unkempt—a quality in young boys that both Charlie and Renee found reprehensible—yet his face looked mischievous and playful, as if evading police was a good thing. His nose was long and his face was angular as Bella stared. It was then that he came too close. His hands found purchase on the metal door, slapping the side panel of the car as he tried hastily to open it. Bella shrieked and scooted across the seat as the buoyant stranger hopped in beside her.

"Hey, how are you folks today?" he asked conversationally, his striking green eyes falling upon Bella who was trembling but not quite as afraid, more shocked at this man's audacity.

"I'm Edward Cullen, and you are?" he held out a hand for Bella to shake while Charlie cursed something foul—a word God would be ashamed of—Renee squealed and Bella just stared, puzzled but not afraid anymore.

She willingly moved her hand forward to grasp his; his scent wafted through her nose. Peppermint, a sickly sweet smoke and a distinctly male smell.

"Pleasure?" she said, only subconsciously aware that she was making niceties with a possible car hijacking lunatic.

A sly grin stretched over his face but before he could go any further, the door was wrenched open and the odd silence that had settled over Bella's ears so that she could hear nothing but the stranger's words was gone.

The two officers hauled the illusive 'Edward' away from the Swan vehicle while another, out of breath policeman tried to calm Bella's parents down.

"Never in my twenty years...!" Charlie began an outraged rant while Renee trembled beside him, glancing periodically back at her daughter.

"Inappropriate, he could have touched my Isabella...!"

Bella listened vaguely to their apologies and retorts until she felt the car moving again. But Bella watched out of the back windshield; the unusual man she had just encountered was being dragged away to a police car, his hands pulled behind him uncomfortably.

Bella Swan slumped back into her seat once he was no longer visible, yet she thought about him much longer after that.

* * *

Edward Cullen watched the red Cadillac speed down the street and turn abruptly, out of sight but not out of mind. A pair of chocolate brown eyes burned into his retinas. He often found it quite amusing to stir the pot in society; the best ways to do that was to mingle with the prudes.

The young girl he had just introduced himself to was a class. A. Square; although it probably wasn't her fault—by the looks of her parents she had conformity and obedience nailed into her from the moment she could walk.

Hell, he wouldn't put it past people like _them_ to start that kind of behaviour training while she was still in the womb.

This morning, Edward hadn't planned on getting arrested again for public nuisance—he was really only looking for his dealer. He was running low on weed and he needed more for the party season coming up.

Of course, a guy like Edward partied all year round; but it was Summer and as he'd just realised, there was new meat—new pools of innocence to corrupt.

With a hearty laugh, he gave up and let the 'pigs' drag him to the shiny cruiser parked out the front of a dingy cafe. The small clusters of his own 'people' crowded around to see what was going on. They chanted along together in disgust, jeering and throwing lewd comments at the cops as Edward was stuffed quite forcibly into the backseat behind the metal grating that separated the two halves of the vehicle. Mostly to keep felons at bay, but that didn't stop them from spitting. Edward laughed and nodded at them.

"FIGHT FOR FREEDOM!" he shouted but the window diminished the volume of his voice.

They cheered anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

_Well, hello again for the second time today--in my time. I just couldn't hold it in and I decided to update this story straight away. I think I'm in love with this era. It's seriously nothing against the noughties, nothing at all. Seriously, it's just I think I have more in common with the flower power age and uh, I still think we should be friends though. Anyways:- ADD ME ON TWITTER._

_THEREALbirobird - it will be bitchin' cool if we could talk all the time. Groovy._

_Fic recs: Please, anything. I think I've exhausted my resources. There as dry as a Nun's snatch at the moment. _

_Hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm really anxious to get on with the smut, but unfortunately, you can't rush this shit._

_Enjoy :D  
_

* * *

_All the leaves are brown (all the leaves are brown)_

_And the sky is grey (when the sky is grey)_

_I've been for a walk (I've been for a walk)_

_On a winters day (on a winters day)_

_I'd be safe and warm (I'd be safe and warm)  
_

_If I was in L.A (If I was in L.A)  
_

_California Dreamin'_

_California Dreamin'- The Mamas and The Papas  
_

* * *

The likes of Simon and Garfunkel filled Bella's ears as she lay down on her stomach across her bed. She had spent the last three days helping her mother and father unpack their belongings, their life, into their new shell of a home. It wasn't that it was a creaking shack, more that it was a little less demure than Bella was used to. Of course, she had never _really_ had a particularly lavish lifestyle, her father was a police officer, after all, not a surgeon or lawyer. They had only been able to scrape together funds for their daughter's education and gotten away with it; now Bella wondered if they were below the poverty line.

But instead of acting selfish and ungrateful for the life God had given her, she decided to be proactive. She was up to her elbows in soap and detergent, scrubbing their apartment down—another thing to get used to, Bella used to live in a house—and chasing out the cobwebs and the surprising abundance of rodents that had cowered inside the drywall out of reach. Renee grew tired with it and instead appealed to her husband for help in exterminating the vermin.

But, exhausted now, Bella had retired to her new room, forgetting that she hadn't gotten around to cleaning _it_ as she had focussed on the rest of the apartment for the larger part of the day.

She could vaguely hear her mother preparing their dinner in a haste—her attention had wondered from her usually duties, or so she called them, and she hadn't kept track of time.

Charlie always joked about Renee always being a bit flustered and scattered all the time. She would laugh in return, slap him on the shoulder and deduce that it was because she worked too hard at being the perfect housewife. That label seemed a little wrong to Bella, though. She loved her mother and greatly appreciated what she did for her and her father, but she felt that she would get bored with her mother's life if she wore her shoes.

Bella was growing tired of this song, so she pulled the needle off of the vinyl record and lay back down, twisting onto her back and staring at the water marked ceiling with her hands behind her head. Her legs hung off the end of her single bed, swinging to the beat of the melody still echoing in her ears.

She unfocussed her eyes and tried to drain out the sound of the clattering of pots and pans; the smell of pork chops wafted down the hall. Bella's room was on the right side off the hall, her parent's bedroom directly off the hall and the bathroom and laundry to the left. Up the opposite end, the apartment spaced a bit. There was room for a living room on the left and the kitchen sat on the right hand, small and square, but a kitchen nonetheless.

Bella contemplated having her eighteenth birthday party in their new home. Would it even be big enough? Would she have made any new friends by then? After all, her birthday was only a few months after school commenced, she couldn't possibly guarantee she would find some girls of like mind.

The thought made Bella slightly miserable. She dearly missed her friend Angela Webber. She was and still is, possibly the most brilliant friend Bella had found in Seattle.

She had never been to school with boys before, either, not just different classes.

What if she liked one of them...? Would her father object? What if she got asked out on a date by a boy?! The thought seemed foreign and unlikely to Bella, though.

Disappointed by her appearance, she stood up from her bed and walked into the bathroom across the hall from her room and peeked at her profile, angling her face this way and that to see if she could find any resemblance to Jackie Kennedy or Audrey Hepburn, but all she found was a short, wiry frame with pale sallow skin. Her father's eyes and hair and her mother's smile. She silently and regrettably envied Twiggy, the famous British model with the wafer thin body—a body she knew the boys probably craved.

With a resigned sigh, she looked down to the now spotless sink, turned the faucet and cupped her hands with water. She splashed it over her face to refresh herself before dinner without the extra step of taking a shower. Instead, she tied her hair up in a neat pony-tail beforehand so she was at least presentable at the table.

Bella prepared the table, setting down a set of knives and forks then three plates and accompanying glasses. Renee appeared at the small round, laminated table with a casserole dish; one pork chop each plus vegetables.

Bella remained quiet throughout dinner which wasn't unusual so neither Charlie nor Renee noticed. She prodded and pondered her broccoli, pushing the overcooked mini-shrub around her half-full plate and wondering what she would do the next day as there was no cleaning left.

"Hey, sweetheart, I was wondering if you'd like to come shopping with me tomorrow?" Renee piped in cheerfully, her cheeks still flushed from standing in the toasty kitchenette for half an hour.

Bella glanced up at her mother with a half-smile, deciding that because she didn't know anyone that she should take the opportunity to leave the house. She hadn't left it for three days.

"Um, yes. Okay. Where are we going?" Bella asked before Charlie interrupted, his mouth full of meat.

"Stay close to the house, you might need to get home in a hurry if there're any hooligans around tomorrow. I'll be patrolling downtown, so they told me," he grumbled at the last part.

"I need to break in a partner...Harry Clearwater, they said his name was." He said around his pork, taking a gulp of milk.

"Darling, please don't eat with your mouth full and Bella, sit up straight, you're slouching." Renee said softly, readjusting the thick white napkin that sat on her lap.

Bella pursed her lips, straightening her back against her chair begrudgingly—she knew she did _not_ slouch. Renee could be a little picky sometimes.

Bella finished eating before her parents did, but she waited for them to finish anyway before excusing herself from the table and retreating back to the dim solitary of her bedroom.

* * *

The following morning was particularly warm.

Renee awoke early as she always did on days they went into town for groceries, dressed in her best sundress and hat.

Bella got dressed in a knee length pleated skirt and a blue cotton blouse.

It was a thin fabric, normally if her father was paying attention, he wouldn't allow her to wear it, but he was preoccupied with getting ready for his first day at work. He kissed Renee on the lips before grabbing his car keys; he'd leave the Caddi at the station, he hated leaving it on the street. And Renee can't drive, so that meant that she and Bella would be walking everywhere and hopping the cable cars.

The street sloped on a very steep angle so it was with a cringing grimace that Bella watched her father try to leave his parking space outside their front door. Ready for a day out, and with her hunger sated, Bella left the building with Renee in tow, excited for some fresh air.

"I think we'll head off for some fun, Bella, what do you think?"

Bella nodded airily.

"I want to see China Town!" she said.

Renee frowned at her daughter apprehensively.

"Maybe another day, dear. Your father told us we shouldn't stray too far from home and where in the Haight-Ashbury district right now, aren't we?" she said softly, turning her sentence of authority into somewhat of a question.

Bella sighed and followed her mother's advancing form down their street.

"I think we should just stick to our own district for the moment," she added, smiling nervously.

Bella knew why her mother didn't want to visit China Town—Bella knew her mother didn't like the Chinese...or the Negros...or the Japanese...or the Mexicans...or anyone who wasn't white for that matter.

Bella didn't really know why. She didn't really care too much, her friend Angela, had darker skin; Hispanic. And Bella still loved her like a sister.

Rolling her eyes behind Renee's back, Bella crossed her arms over her chest and walked, slouching in disappointment.

* * *

Renee and Bella walked from Parnassus Avenue down to the edge of the Golden Gate Park. They were growing weary and tired as the day wore on and they had bags of groceries gathered in their arms. By mid-afternoon, Bella was about to collapse.

"Can we at least get something to eat?" she pleaded.

Renee looked nervous and skittish again; somehow she was still standing despite her small stature and the load of paper bags she was lugging around.

"I don't know if that's a good idea, sweetie," she murmured, glancing in every direction around her.

They were closer to home now, Bella recognised they were standing in Haight street, the same street she was on the day she met that Edward Cullen person.

Nervous and excited, Bella's stomach fluttered a little just at the prospect of being in that place again. She looked around and spotted a cafe, leading her mother towards it despite her hesitance.

"Come _on_, Mom—I'm starving! I'll tip over before we even get home! Please?" she begged again, breathing in the scent of coffee and baked goods from inside the glass doors.

"Alright," Renee sighed, exasperated.

She nodded to Bella to go in first. They found a place to sit and Bella unceremoniously dumped the load on the wooden table. Renee frowned, muttering something about breaking jars before taking a seat herself. She couldn't deny how good it was to have a little rest.

"How can I help you?" A man stood at their table, a pen and pad in his hands.

He was tall and had brown hair, russet skin and ham hands.

"Er..." Renee stammered.

Bella sighed—the boy was Native American, no wonder Renee had become uncomfortable.

"Just two coffees, please." Bella smiled pleasantly.

The boy raised an eyebrow.

"Now, you're not from here, are you?" he asked, smirking.

Renee was still staring, mouth gaping. The young man frowned at her, puzzled then decided that Bella was the probably the only one he was getting information from.

"Uh, no. We only just moved here. We live in The Haight-Ashbury district."

Bella felt a shoe connect with her shin under the table—Renee hadn't been conspicuous, either. The table jolted and the salt and pepper shakers toppled over.

Eyes watering, Bella continued to smile painfully at the waiter.

"Uh, yeah...The Haight, that's what we call it round here." He said, his eyes narrowed at Renee. After he left with their orders, Renee rounded on Bella.

"You told him where we lived!" Renee hissed.

"Like he's going to find us, Mom. There are hundreds of people around here." Bella defended but stopped the moment Renee slapped her hand.

The bell above the door chimed as the door swung open; a group of about four males, Bella's age, came strolling in. They were all dressed like homeless people and had long, dirty hair that hung past their shoulders. There was one Asian boy, too.

They were snickering and kept sharing loaded glances with each other than staring at Bella who had gone red in the cheeks. She wondered why they were acting so odd and wanted them to stop. Their coffees came then and Bella sipped hers eagerly while Renee sat stoically, staring out the window.

Rolling her eyes at her mother's sudden childishness, Bella reached across the table and replaced her mother's cup with her empty one. She drank both coffees in record time, but didn't feel like leaving straight away as the place held an ambience of calm and cheerfulness. Something different and eccentric. The spearmint green walls were dotted with odd paintings and picture frames; some signed with celebrity autographs, others just looked like common customers.

Smiling to herself, Bella continued to look around until her eyes encountered something glorious...

Edward was sat at the back of his friend's coffee place, _The Black's._ He had known Jacob since middle school—they had both dropped out at the same time. He now worked in the family business; somewhat dead-ended, but it gave him money to live off of...sort of.

He was slouched low in the back corner, the red, slippery plastic of the booth's seats were uncomfortable to try to be inconspicuous in—he was always glancing up and around him as he rolled a joint under the table. Then he felt holes burning in his forehead; looking up again, prepared to tell any cop that he was neither rolling a joint nor playing with himself. But instead of finding a uniform, he saw _that girl._ With a smirk, he waved, wiggling his fingers daintily at her. Her cheeks reddened and she quickly looked down, turning her body in the opposite direction.

Edward chuckled to himself and continued with his work, but he was bored with it now. He would much rather mingle with the prudes and see if he could get a rise out of them.

Standing up, he pocketed the dope and the half-rolled joint in it's small paper bag. But quicker than she appeared, she was gone, slamming a few notes down, she grabbed some paper bags off her table and quickly sauntered out of the shop, her mother hastily catching up. Disappointed, Edward made a mental note to approach her next time...

He hoped dearly that there would be a next time.

* * *

"Lowell High School?" Bella asked dubiously, staring at Charlie across the table.

He nodded with his eyebrows furrowed.

She sighed and poked at her steak and potatoes.

"It's actually a very reputable institution, Bella. It's one of the city's oldest schools. It was built in the 1850s, of course it was called something different back then, but..." Charlie eyed Bella, wondering where this new reluctance was coming from.

"Well anyway, they base admission on above good GPA's, so you're a shoe-in. And that's good because two years ago they'd only enrol you if you were in the surrounding neighbourhood."

Bella nodded, only slightly interested. What she wanted to know is if that group of boys she met earlier that day would be going to the same school—if so, she was very interested in dropping out.

But more than that; she was still thinking of that intriguing man from four days ago, the one that literally dropped into the car with them on the first day in San Francisco.

"I also hear they have a brilliant athletics programme—"

"Charlie! She's a young lady! She doesn't need to be running around with a dirty ball all day," Renee protested, slopping milk from her glass on the table.

Charlie raised his eyebrows in challenge before Renee looked away sheepishly.

"...uh...Darling." She added as an afterthought, taking back her quiet background position.

"But what if I don't like it there?" Bella asked worriedly.

Charlie's moustache twitched, he wasn't used to being talked back to, especially by both his wife and daughter.

"There will be no further discussion." He stated curtly and resumed eating with a fierce concentration he usually only reserved for crosswords.

Bella bit her lip and scowled balefully at her fork until she was allowed to leave the table. Throwing herself face down on her bed, Bella squirmed under her comforter until she found the best sleeping position. She forgot about showering or brushing her teeth. Within no time, she'd succumbed to sleep.

* * *

"You're father thinks I should join the HANC," Renee commented distantly as she buttered toast and poured coffee.

Bella looked up from her bowl of cereal.

"Wha?" she said, rather incomprehensibly; she wasn't a morning person.

"The HANC, sweetheart and don't talk with your mouth full, you know I hate that." She rebuked, eyeing Bella's open mouth with disdain.

"It's The Haight Ashbury Neighbourhood Council. Mrs. Clearwater, you know, Harry's wife—well she lives just around the corner from us! How delightful is that?" she grinned, taking a small bite from her breakfast.

"She's part of it all, practically the president; she makes most of the decisions. Well, of course, except for Mr. Cullen—he's a surgeon, actually. He's _really_ the president and Sue is more like the _vice..._" She began mumbling details to herself, her eyes glazing over, lost in thought.

"Huh," Bella sat there, staring dazedly at her mother's rapidly moving lips.

"Cullen you say?" she asked, even thought Renee was no longer on the same planet.

"Cullen. Cullen. Cullen." With a flash of recognition, Bella almost toppled out of her chair.

"They live _here? In the Haight?!_" Her mother still wouldn't listen.

"Shit," she blurted, then clapped a hand to her shocked mouth.

Her eyes shot to her mother who had stopped mid-rambling to stare, shell shocked at her daughter and her potty mouth.

"I'm so sorry, Mother. I-I didn't mean to curse...It-it just s-slipped out," she gasped, jumping up from the table.

"You go wash your mouth out with soap, Isabella Swan!" Renee shouted down the hall.

She came up behind Bella, gripped her shoulders and turned her around on the spot, slapping her hard across the cheek.

"Never in my house!"she shrieked.

"And from a young woman? To curse is to sin, my child—you will be mentioning this in your confession!"

Bella rubbed her cheek, her eyes stinging at the sudden intense resentment she felt towards Renee.

Instead of running to her room to pray, Bella needed fresh air.

"I'll be out for a walk," she muttered, striding past Renee who looked even more shocked than before.

Bella's skirt billowed around her knees as she strode hurriedly from the door to her apartment building—it was old and shabby and as much as she shouldn't think it, Bella hated the place.

She loathed it, really. It was too draughty and small. She missed her old house and her old room.

Slowing to a brisk walk instead of a jog; Bella had her eyes on her feet. It was quite a nippy morning as the temperatures never really rose above 75 degrees. On a good day. It was well below that this morning and Bella, in her anger, had left the house without a jacket or cardigan. Sometimes she wished her mother would let her wear jeans. They just looked so comfortable and had advantages that a skirt did not. It's not like she would be parading around in a mini-skirt. She hugged her arms around herself, fighting back tears of embarrassment. She felt stupid and that she may have overreacted. The name just shocked her; of course it was just a name and there _had_ to be more than _one_ Cullen in San Francisco, anyway—

Bella was knocked backwards by a brick wall. That's what it had felt like, but as she regained her footing, she realised the brick wall had arms...and legs...and a face...

"Er..."

"Oh, hello there. I see we've met before, haven't we?" Edward Cullen grinned smugly at Bella who jerked her arm away from him but didn't take a step back or move away.

"Y-yes," Bella stuttered.

"Did I get your name last time?" he asked, still smiling, though his eyes squinted in concentration.

"Um..." Bella rummaged around in her brain for an answer.

Give him a fake name? Or just run for it?

"Bella." She answered before she could stop herself.

_Oh, fooey. _She thought.

"Bella." His smile was crooked and it would be modest to say it wasn't enchanting.

He had his hand outstretched again as he had in the car the previous week.

"Edward Cullen." He told her again as she grasped it, unable to help herself.

His smile faded immediately and he frowned as their skin made contact. Bella was distantly aware that her mother was probably worried about her leaving so abruptly and that she was talking to a complete stranger who was older than her and bigger. The first time they met he had also been hauled away by policemen. It definitely was _not_ good to be standing here holding hands with the man.

His hand closed around hers. It was warm and big, her small hand was lost within it and then he let go and her brain sprang into sharp focus.

"You live around here?" he asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets and hunching his shoulders against the harsh wind.

"Yes." Bella answered straight away.

_Strike two._

Bella bit her lip and dropped her eyes to the sidewalk.

"I should probably go home...my Mom will want to know where I am...we just had a fight..." she murmured, staring at his shoes which were half obscured by a pair of jeans.

Her eyes strayed upward and she felt her cheeks getting warmer.

"A fight?" Edward asked, surprised.

"What about?"

For some reason Bella felt compelled to tell him everything. On a normal occasion, she would be closing up and smiling politely but not divulging family issues to another person outside the issue. But Edward Cullen just had beautiful eyes...

"I cursed." Bella muttered miserably, finding solace when she found no hint of disgust in his eyes.

Not disgust. Amusement.

He snorted loudly so that passersby actually looked in their direction.

"You cursed?" he chuckled.

"I guess you're catholic or something, right?" he pressed.

Bella nodded in assent, wondering how he could possibly know. He hissed then, unexpectedly.

"That your punishment?" he asked pointing at her cheek.

"It was my own fault. I was brought up never to speak in such a way...and...I don't even know why I'm sharing this with you, excuse me,"

"Wait, hang on!" Edward said, grasping her arm.

"Just hold on, will you. You're tellin' me that you got beaten down 'cause you said 'fuck'?"

Bella's eyes bugged out of her head and Edward guffawed.

"Jesus Christ,"

"Do not take the Lord's name in vain!" she shrieked, taken aback.

Edward had his palm pressed to his mouth, hissing with laughter.

"Wow," he muttered after he had composed himself.

"You're just as squeaky as the next one. Let me ask you this, _Bella. _Are you usually allowed to leave the house by yourself?"

Bella shook her head and Edward smirked then shook his head too, regrettably.

"You need to learn how to live kid. Maybe you might be able to get that stick out of up your ass."

Bella gasped.

"How dare you...! You even—" she spluttered, shocked.

How dare this _Edward Cullen_ teach her what was right and wrong and how dare he cuss in front of her.

"Cursing is a sin!" she hissed.

"Then absolve me." Edward chuckled carelessly.

"I can't, only a priest—"

"Shit, Bella. I was joking, that just shows how straight and narrow you really are."

Bella was outraged.

"How old are you?" he dredged.

"Seventeen," she said automatically then mentally kicked herself for giving him more ammo.

His grin widened.

"Come on, let me walk you home." He told her, placing a hand on her shoulder and spinning her around.

She felt like screaming at this insufferable lunatic—which is what he was. But she had no choice as he was now walking in the direction she needed to walk and he was physically restraining her from taking another route. Not that she knew another one anyway.

With folded arms and a contemptuous expression, Bella trudged alongside Edward, stealing angry yet nervous sidelong glances at him every few seconds.

She stopped in front of her building and turned away without a word.

"So, now that I know where you live...I'll know where to pick you up from, won't I?"

Bella's mouth fell open but no words came out. Edward hopped up the front concrete steps towards the landing where Bella stood. She took a few hasty steps backwards until she collided with the wall. His face arrogant but magnificent sat inches away. Just a few tasty inches.

Bella wondered where her brain had gone.

She swallowed hard and made an unimpressive squeaking noise as his voice got even closer.

"I'll show you outside your clean, boring, straight edge world, little girl. I'll make you free..." he whispered.

"You're invading...personal...space..." she muttered but she felt her eyelids flutter closed.

Abominably gorgeous—Edward's nose brushed Bella's cheek and she felt her stomach flip uncontrollably. Her palms were sweaty, her chest heaved with every anxious breath and she found herself ridiculously wishing that he leaned a bit closer so that their lips touched.

Edward glanced down at her chest then back up to her eyes; she closed them again.

She felt his breath, hot, minty against her face. He smelled sweet and manly. Then she felt his lips against her cheek, whispering against her skin.

"I see you don't hate me as much as you make out," he said and she could hear the smile and self-satisfaction in his tone.

He reached into his back pocket for something and pressed it into Bella's hand. It felt papery and thin. She just stared at him, squeezing whatever it was tightly in her palm. "This should loosen you up. It's how we did it in 'The Summer of Love'."

"I find you endearingly interesting, so I promise you'll be seeing more of me." He finished.

Bella's eyes flew open the moment he pressed his lips to hers. A hot, fiery need within her, dormant for years flew into oblivion at the drop of a hat. A guttural moan escaped from between her lips as she tasted him. Gasping, her lips became active and urgent on his. She loved the taste...the feel...the burning in her chest, stomach...between her legs...

Edward pulled back, his eyes a molten consistency as they burned straight through Bella's. Licking his lips and at a loss for words, he skipped down from the landing and disappeared down the street.

The bible told humankind of such creatures.

Had Bella just sinned again, in the worst possible way? Had she just given into temptation...with a devil?


	3. Chapter 3

Hey guys, how are we doing tonight? Good, thats good.

Well, here's another update for the dynamic 60s duo, hope you like it.

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN TWILIGHT, but I DO own hippyward.

* * *

_I like smoke and lightning  
Heavy metal thunder  
Racin' with the wind  
And the feelin' that I'm under  
Yeah Darlin' go make it happen  
Take the world in a love embrace  
Fire all of your guns at once  
And explode into space_

_Like a true nature's child  
We were born, born to be wild  
We can climb so high  
I never wanna die_

_Born to be wild  
Born to be wild_

_Born to be Wild- Steppenwolf_

Bella gripped the stick of paper in her hand—not understanding why she was acting so trusting and accepting a gift a stranger gave to her. A stranger and a criminal. If only a petty one.

It didn't make a difference, though, because she wasn't going to keep it. Bella was still breathing hard and fast as she turned around on the spot, where she had stood rooted to the spot on the porch of her building. The wind was still biting coldly at her cheeks and arms. Her blouse was quite light and it didn't give her thin skin enough shield from the San Francisco seas breeze. Bella could smell the salt and brine on the moist air—one positive trait of the area she lived in. She shivered, still grasping Edward's present and gripping the door knob with her other hand, forgetting that she didn't have a key.

Bella sighed, incensed, before buzzing on the bell for her parent's apartment and awaiting Renee's admittance to the building. She hoped that her mother wasn't too ticked off with her not to let her back in the house. She was worried she might actually do it and began to fret anxiously when the door unlocked. She gripped the old, worn brass knob with her empty hand and pushed it open with lavish as the warm air inside wrapped around her body like a warm caress.

Flashes of green eyes and warm hands flashed in her brain like a splash of cold water on her soul. She shivered again—telling herself it was from the radical change in temperature but knowing it was because of the ghost of his touch on her skin...her lips...

She shook her head and hoped she didn't look too guilty as she climbed the stairs to her door, knocking lightly and hesitantly.

Renee opened the door and stood aside to let her daughter back inside; a harsh and judgmental scowl on her usually content or passive face. Renee hardly took her daughter's behaviour into her own disciplining hands—it was left up to Charlie, but even then, it was on rare occasion that Bella was to disobey them or dishonour. She was a good child and Renee reasoned with herself that it was an accident—an abominable accident—but it was one nevertheless.

"To your room. I don't want to see you out until dinner time." She ordered with a curt gesture to Bella bedroom.

Bella sighed but took her punishment of solidarity rather than another physical discipline.

Once she was safely out of sight; Bella unrolled her fingers to reveal a white stick in her palm, resembling a cigarette, only smaller and thinner.

Bella let out a gasp and thought seriously about throwing it out the window. She bit her lip and frowned and grimaced at the offending paper thread until she decided to hide it. Refusing to believe it was because she wanted to keep a reminder of Edward, she busied herself with her sketch pad.

Two drawings of eyes later, she screwed up the page and turned her music on, throwing her pad down onto the echoing wooden floor and folding her arms defiantly against the urge to reminisce about the crazy, sordid kiss she shared with Edward Cullen earlier that morning.

Bella had remained sheltered her entire life—nothing of the likes of Edward Cullen ever showed up. That's why he was so intimidating to her. She felt reckless and more like the teenagers she saw on T.V than who she was raised to be—Isabella Swan.

She felt herself craving his attention once more, just to be reminded of what that sensation felt like again. She knew she was doing everything wrong—she mustn't be thinking of that rogue hippy at any time of the day, yet she found herself even dreaming of him and his rugged bronze mop.

Unfortunately, Bella had no friends yet of whom she could share her feelings of despair with. She had not progressed to that stage and since she had received a much deserved grounding for her filthy mouth, she hadn't had the opportunity to leave the smelly nest that was their apartment in The Haighte.

* * *

"Dad?" Bella approached her father as he sat in his arm chair, watching T.V one night.

His moustache twitched and she took it as a sign that he was listening.

"Um, Dad, would it be alright if I went out tomorrow?" she ventured bravely, noting the way Charlie's ears turned pink once the words fell from her mouth.

"I just—I want to make friends!" she supplied hastily.

"I-I know how you feel about the neighbourhood, so I promise not to go far. I only want to meet the neighbours, really, or-or go to the library!" she promised vehemently.

This was mostly true—Edward was, after all, a distant neighbour—and she was running low on reasonable literature to keep her entertained for the rest of the Summer.

She held her hands behind her back in surrender with her head hung low, her chin almost to her chest as she waited for a rebuff or a scolding for even voicing her request.

"Alright," Charlie muttered absently, distracted by the television.

Renee looked, shocked, at her husband from her perch on the plastic-covered sofa, her pile of knotted knitting in her lap.

She was gaping but quickly averted her accusing gaze when Charlie glared at her in challenge.

Bella rejoiced exultantly inside before leaning down to give her father a quick, grateful kiss on the cheek—it would only seal the deal, anyway. Charlie was butter when Bella showed rare affection.

He smiled up at her before letting his eyes stray back to their prior fixation of Green Acres on CBS.

Bella trotted down the hallway, the sounds of Mr. Haney and the Douglass's droning out of the living room behind her.

Bella shuffled into her bedroom and grabbed her pyjamas, tucking them under her arm along with her towel. She shuffled back out and across the hallway into the vacant bathroom that smelled of lemon disinfectant and soap.

Once undressed and under the warm spray, Bella squeezed some shampoo—strawberry scented—and lathered up her long brown tresses. She sighed in comfortable contentment as the smell wafted through the steaming shower. The glass was fogging up and the warm tingling feeling she got from a hot shower was settling in her stomach and she found it bizarrely reminiscent of the way she felt with Edward's lips on hers, his tongue licking and rubbing with her own.

Without even noticing it, her hand had wondered down between her legs before she could stop it. Bella hardly knew what she was doing, but instinct told her to touch where she felt the pressure, to touch the burning between her legs.

A gasp sounded from between her lips as a rush of heat surged there from the contact of her fingers. She cautiously parted her folds, aware of the thick moisture there. She didn't realise what that meant, only that it happened when she thought about that kiss...

Biting her lip and throwing caution to the wind, Bella let her fingers move up and down the slick line, collecting the substance on her finger tips and looking at it closely to examine it.

Odd, she thought.

She quickly rinsed her hand, curious but afraid she could hurt herself than have to explain to her mother.

Heart beating furiously, Bella leaned back against the cold tiles on her left, facing the panes of glass in front of her. Shaking slightly and completely unsure of herself, Bella reached down again to the sprinkle of curly hairs between her thighs. Touching the sensitive mound with one tentative finger, she felt a twinge of more pressure—good pressure. It felt nice.

She shivered and pressed harder, rewarded with more pleasure.

"Mmm..." she hummed quietly, smiling slightly to herself under the spray.

But once she heard Renee knocking impatiently on the door, Bella swiftly removed her hand and chastised herself for being foolish and disgusting.

"Bella! Be quick in there, you can't waste the hot water!"

She quickly finished rinsing her hair, conditioning then rinsing again, being quick but thorough and studiously avoiding where she let her hands wander before.

* * *

The Haighte was a mecca for colour and individualism. There wasn't a place you could go where someone wasn't flouting their different clothes, smoking joints or being publically affectionate with one another.

Bella hadn't been entirely sure she would see such things, of course she wasn't completely naive to the fact that the people here were different, it was just _how_ different, that she hadn't expected.

The groups of people around the main streets crowed with enthusiasm as she passed by the, clutching a small, tan purse to her side and dodging the throngs of people she encountered in her way.

Bella was on her way to the park to read. She had promised her father she wouldn't stray far and since he was patrolling nearby, she hadn't thought anything of pushing the boundaries and leaving her street. After a quick glance at the Cullen's house—jealously ensued as it was a beautiful home—Bella had scurried off into the more populated places.

She thought now about how silly she was acting, obsessing over a boy—or man, rather—that had practically assaulted her outside her home with her mother upstairs. He was smug and rude and crass and definitely not a suitable boy to be thinking about. He was sure to be older, too and Charlie would not accept that, let alone his spotty behavioural record.

Slightly disheartened by this revelation, Bella spotted the familiar coffee spot she had been to with Renee the day they went shopping. Bella straightened out her floral pinafore dress and walked with purpose to the small, slightly dingy yet homey coffee shop in search of familiarity in this crazy new habitat.

Bella heard, from just outside the windows as she entered, the sound of plucking guitar strings. Intrigued, she was even more inclined to enter.

A sense of well-being flourished in her veins at the sight of the bronze hair poking above a booth in the back corner of the shop. Amazing, that she had seen him here twice. This seemed to be the place they met, the place she was drawn to—like a magnet to a refrigerator.

She wondered idly if that was true—if perhaps, it was fate, or 'God's way'.

Crossing her heart and kissing her cross pendant that swung liberally from a chain around her neck, Bella took a seat far away from the tantalising music, afraid of what this stranger could do to her—with her willingness.

_He's just some cocky, attention-seeking oddball. He's just like the men Daddy arrest._ Bella reminded herself, leaning her cheek against her head with a sigh.

Today wasn't as cold as the week previous had been, although Bella wore tights today to keep her legs warm from the lingering summer chill.

The same Native American boy came to serve her with a recognising smile on his mouth.

"Hey, how's The Haighte treatin' ya?" he started, placing his pencil behind his ear—his crow black hair tied back in a pony tail at the nape of his neck.

Bella marvelled at how shiny it was.

"Um, fine." She smiled politely, still impolitely distracted by that darn guitar and it's player.

"I see you've been let out alone? Where's the old warden?" he joked.

"Hmm?" Bella's eyebrows raised.

"Oh, um..." she frowned and Jacob frowned back at her lucidity—lack thereof.

"She's uh, she's at home...she let me come out on my own today. I wanted to go to the park, actually."

"Oh," he looked at her, considering.

Bella wasn't sure whether to look away or not.

"Have you been to China town yet? Little Osaka? Mission bay?" he smirked at some secret joke of his.

"Missionary," he mumbled under his breath, shaking his head with an odd smile on his face.

He looked at Bella again then, like he was hungry—his brow furrowed.

"Uhh..." Bella trailed off.

"No. I haven't been around much. My parents won't let me go out by myself, usually. Not with...well..." she motioned vaguely to the people around them.

He glanced around them and back to Bella, a brow raised in amusement.

"Like mother, like daughter," he muttered.

"What?" Bella asked, unsure of what he mumbled.

"Nothing," he smiled, all white teeth and beautiful brown skin.

"Well, what's your name, sweet cheeks?"

"My name's...Bella." she hadn't hesitated with Edward Cullen.

She shoved that thought away. At least this man wasn't rude.

"I'm Jacob Black." He offered his huge hand for her to shake.

She took it and it reminded her of their open fire place in their old house. Big and toasty. He grinned from ear to ear before letting her reclaim her hand, the illusive man in the corner, forgotten.

"Well, Bella...I'm sure you'd like a tour guide of our lovely city—what do you think? Would you mind my company?"

Bella considered, worried she would be in trouble, especially if she was caught by her father or her mother. But she doubted she would—this was a gigantic city.

But before Bella could answer, her breath caught in her throat. Edward Cullen had sauntered over to their shared table, Jacob's hand was slightly covering Bella's and it's the first thing his eyes caught.

He then turned his eyes to Jacob, giving him a short nod then turning his attention to Bella.

Bella gulped loudly, afraid he would be able to hear her heart excel.

"It's been too long, my brunette buddy. Where have you been?" he smirked, pinching a cigarette between his thumb and forefinger before stubbing it out in the ashtray next to the salt and pepper shakers.

Bella slid her hand from on top of the dark wood to her lap; she didn't want her betraying shakes to demonstrate to the devil how she covertly desired his company.

She let her eyes drop bashfully to the counter top and not at his face.

She didn't want to feel the dire temptation again, at any cost.

But his proximity was like a voltage through her skin—shocking and electrifying.

"I think I'd very much like to give Miss. Bella here a once over...of the district," he grinned down at Bella who couldn't help but stare back, transfixed and vulnerable.

"Okay." She answered immediately.

Standing up, she swung her bag back over her shoulder, forgetting Jacob and forgetting the coffee she was about to order.

"Sorry, Black—I'm a personal friend. I guess we'll see you round." He bumped his fist with a petulant-faced Jacob while Bella frowned at their behaviour.

She wondered why he was apologising.

And she wondered what on Earth had driven her to accept his invitation. Instead of looking back into his eyes, she looked back out into the street at the rainbow coloured van parked just off the curb.

The Volks Wagon was rusted in places, the painting cheap and peeling off around the rust patches.

A unicorn was painted on the side, straddled by a—

Bella looked away, blushing.

--straddled by a naked woman with leaves in her hair.

The windows were obscured by tie-dyed fabrics, clinging to the glass. A man of about thirty was sitting on the edge, the side door open. He stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans and advancing towards where Bella stood.

Edward grasped her hand tightly in his and she remembered he was there.

Blushing so that her face felt like it was on fire—she had never held hands with a boy—Bella let Edward lead her out of the shop, glaring pointedly at the scruffy, messy little man with blonde shaggy hair.

Oblivious to their death-staring match, Bella followed the trouble-maker willingly further down the street away from the crowds and into a densely suburban area.

The houses here looked worse than her own; she felt a guilty for being glad she wasn't the worst-off person in San Francisco. She tried in vain to distract herself from the glowing feeling of Edward's hand curled around hers, still unrelenting and firm.

He turned a corner and dragged her with him, walking briskly down a street with more houses and apartment buildings.

Their walk slowed slightly, but Bella still had to rush to keep up with Edward's long-legged strides over the sidewalk.

"So..." she murmured quietly, embarrassed and uncertain.

His expression had been rigid, but it softened at her stammering attempt at small talk.

"So, how is my brown haired little mare?" he chuckled, tucking a lock of wayward hair behind her ear.

She gasped softly at the unexpected gesture and tried to keep her skin from bursting into flames. She hoped he wanted to kiss her again, even though she shouldn't want that. She wondered if he wanted to—she did. She _really_ wanted to. She wanted to feel that feeling again, desperately.

* * *

Edward struggled to keep himself from deflowering his beloved little minx in the coffee shop—on the table-in front of his best friend. He was a territorial bastard and he had already marked Bella, supposedly, as his protégée, so to speak. Of course, he was completely and extremely anti-monogamist. But that didn't stop him from plucking his little Swan from the Big Bad Wolf's clutches.

He was a local womaniser, Jacob Black. Second only to Mr. Cullen—the smug and crookedly handsome surgeon's son.

Although he wouldn't exactly label himself as a womaniser, more so an expressive free-loving human, doing human things. It was foolish to believe _one_ person had _one_ match. The human species was made to fuck, fuck and fuck again. That was the philosophy that Edward lived by anyway.

He just had to teach it to his brunette bombshell.

He hastily decided to take her to Ben's house. He was having a get-together. He was always having get-togethers at his place, though. So Edward didn't need to check in advance.

Ben Cheney was gay, his boyfriend, Tyler lived with him in his flat in the Haighte—the place where the Summer of Love took place the previous year. It was a communal place, a free-spirited (usually) sex and drug hotspot.

"What have you been doing? Avoiding me?" he asked teasingly with only a hint of interrogation and seriousness present.

Not enough for Bella to realise though.

She blushed and ducked her beautiful head until Edward pulled her chin up.

"Don't hide your face—especially not those eyes." He whispered, brushing her hair from her face again.

"It makes you look weak. Show everyone your character...your fierceness," he decided to tease her more.

"And that potty mouth I've heard so much about."

Bella snapped her mouth closed and glared at him, dropping his hand from hers but not moving.

Edward laughed and grasped her hand again, dragging her up the front steps outside Ben's house. Bella dragged her feet a little, timidly approaching behind him.

"No need to be afraid, little one. No-one will bite you..." he looked in front of him than back at her.

"_Hard_." He added, grinning then dragging her inside the door that was thrown open by Ben on the other side.

He wore a giant smile, greeting Edward with a handshake and eyeing Bella appreciatively before inviting them in.

Bella glanced around the small living room, bigger than her own, but darker and smellier.

There were people lying around on sofas, on the floor and on cushions. Some of them were kissing passionately, unaware of any intrusion.

Others were sucking on huge glass vases with tubes sticking out of them and smoke billowing from the top. It smelled sickly sweet in here, the windows were closed and it was quite stuffy and hot.

The smell was a higher concentration of what Edward usually smelled like. Tentative, Bella glanced around at the people, staring up at her with odd expressions of amusement and deviousness. She clutched Edward's hand tightly, she didn't want him to leave her here alone. The curtains were yellow and stained and there was heavy music playing in the background.

_The Rolling Stones?_ Bella guessed.

She couldn't be sure.

"Hey sweet thing—what is it you got here, Cullen?" a stumbling man asked--blonde hair and blue eyes, getting up off the floor to leer at Bella.

She cringed and took a step back, leaning into Edward.

He threw a casual arm around her and stared pointedly at him.

"She's a rookie, Mike—give her a chance to warm up."

Mike chuckled and plopped back onto the floor where a blonde-haired woman gathered him up in a passionate embrace before obscenely stroking his crotch.

Bella had to look away then, she grew hot under her clothes—not entirely pleasant.

Edward tugged on her hand then and led them into the kitchen which wasn't much bigger than her's at home—yellow and green tiles on the walls with a spearmint green kitchen counter.

The linoleum was bubbled and peeling from the corners, it crackled under their footsteps. Bella leaned back, cautiously against the counter. Edward shrugged out of his leather jacket, revealing a holey slogan t-shirt underneath that read _Playboy_, tight around his chest. Bella licked her lips unconsciously.

"What is a _playboy_?" she asked curiously, cocking her head.

"You'll find out when you're older."

She hadn't realised she'd been staring until he lifted his eyebrow at her and smirked.

To divert his attention, she pointed to one of the peculiar vase things that held the smoke. One was sitting atop the dining table, purple in colour.

Edward looked at her, a mischievous smile stretching across his face.

"I think we'll leave that one for another day—but for future reference, that's called a bong." He answered her, taking a few steps closer, like she was a baby foal.

Which, to him, she probably looked. He _had_ called her a _mare._

"Do you still have that present I gave you the other day?" he asked, leaning close.

So close that Bella could hardly breathe from their proximity—she was already cumulating a headache from the thick smoke in this house. She didn't even know why she had let him lead her in here.

"Maybe I should go home," she muttered, her eyes wide.

Edward shook his head, refusing.

"No."

"But—I don't know these people, Edward. They're strangers...what if they're bad?" she stressed.

Edward chuckled, his nose grazing her cheek. His arms caged around her, leaning against the counter on either side of her waist.

"Then I'm just as bad as them, and you trust me, don't you? Don't lie."

She watched his lips for a moment and she was unable to tell him 'no'.

She nodded, losing her voice.

"Good." He breathed, his nose still grazing dangerously across her cheek.

His hands reached up to her face and guided her, tilting it to the side so he could lean all the way in.

Bella moaned a little when his lips finally met hers again.

"Did you miss me?" he mumbled against her lips.

"Y-yes," she whispered shakily.

He chuckled again before pressing his lips more firmly against hers.

He tasted so sweet and so...delicious.

His hot breath mingled with hers—she could think of no better place to be. She no longer cared for consequences.

His lips moved against hers, parting them with his own and letting his tongue through.

Bella gave a little mew of pleasure which made Edward pants quite uncomfortable—shockingly quick.

Edward's tongue slid into her mouth and Bella could do nothing to stop him, she didn't want him to. Fiery sparks of energy travelled between them as he pressed her against the counter and the cabinets. He had to bend down to kiss her, his hands still on either side of her face, helping her, training her in how to do this.

Bella shyly let her tongue slid back into Edward's mouth, surprising him with her forwardness for a beginner and with how much it affected his dick.

Groaning, he plunged his tongue deeper, rubbing it against hers and sucking on her bottom lip. She was jelly in his hands, losing a grip on reality, on her morals, on everything outside this kiss.

He pressed his hips into hers, corrupting her further and lavishing in her responsiveness.

Bella felt him press harder into her, their middles touching and his chest flush with hers. His hands wandered slowly down her neck, to her shoulders and her waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck, wanting more closeness because that seemed the only way...

Edward's palms pressed softly against Bella's breasts and she gasped, not only in shock but in ecstasy.

No-one's hands had been on that part of her body before.

Instead of loss, she felt like Edward had given her something, she had gained.

Breathing hard, she leant into him; he had to hold her up to keep her from slumping against him and falling to the floor in a heap of melted mess. He smirked, letting his tongue invade her mouth once more and pressing his excruciating erection against her hip. She moaned—she fucking moaned. And now Edward was worried he might not stop—that he might fuck Bella on Ben's kitchen. Bend her over the stove and fuck her hard because he couldn't control himself. He was horny, and Bella was the most exquisite creature he had come across.

But instead, he slowed it down and turned their kissing into soft pecks—she had more learning to do first.

He pulled Bella up onto the counter. She squealed and slapped his arm, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen. Edward ran his fingers through her long curls, leaning in to inhale before reaching back in his pocket.

He pulled a joint out and handed it to Bella.

She looked at it inquisitively and frowned as Edward revealed a lighter.

He took it from her grasp and put it between her lips.

"Hold it there, like a lollipop..." he told her.

She did as she was told.

"Now...you're going to have the ride of your life, my little brownie." He grinned, holding the butane up to the tip of the white stick.


	4. Chapter 4

Prude and Prejudice

**Rated: MA**

**Disclaimer: Twilight isn't mine. I'm just kicking Ed and Bel's asses into the 60s.**

_Birobird here, how ya guys doing? It's been too long since I've fraternised with Hippyward, so sorry about that. *sheepish smile*_

_But heres the new update and I hope you like it. Can you say...body paints? (You'll know what I mean later)  
_

* * *

Bella felt...for lack of a better word..._colourful._

Every thing she touched sparked to life and radiated eddies of heat and warmth. She felt it from the crown of her head to the back of her heels; the meaning of life!

Things held _taste, essence_ and _expression._

She felt the world. She smelled the air and for some reason...

_She was starving!_

Bella had an explicable desire to devour every food in sight. She craved something salty and savoury; potato chips...pizza...anything!

It sort of felt like she was disconnected from her body in a shimmering mass of light. Like she was no longer a part of her physical form, or she'd just leisurely ventured away for a while. She watched from above her own head, staring cheerily at her relaxed, limp form.

Bella had indulged in smoking the 'joint' that Edward gave her. He promised she'd feel good, feel nothing but bliss and calm. He was absolutely right and she could find no other way to thank him than to kiss him again.

Bella distantly remembered making a promise to her Daddy; it went a little something like vowing never to involve herself in with undesirable people, drug addicts or alcoholics, or anyone who listened to that new band, Led Zeppelin.

Filthy, devil music, Charlie had warned his daughter.

With that in mind, and a thoroughly spot-free upbringing, blanketed by a healthy dose of religion, he was sure that Bella would grow and prosper into a respectable young woman.

_If he could see me now,_ she laughed internally.

Looking around herself, she noted that she had migrated from the kitchen to the shabby living room. In any other circumstance, she would have been repulsed by the state of it. The carpet was stained and smelly, the drapes quite in the same category of hygiene, plus the coffee tables and bookshelves were layered with thick dust, sporting empty crockery; mugs, bowls and plates adorned with half-eaten sandwiches. Packets of food, empty for the most part, littered the floor and the tables while the wood was marked with rings from not using coasters for glasses.

_Usually_, these things would make Bella cringe in distaste; quite like her mother, who'd much rather burn the house to the ground and start again with a pile of ashes than touch anything here. But at the moment, all the Swan girl wanted to do was sit, listen to music and hum along whilst Edward cradled her in his arms. She lay her head at the base of his neck, her hand splayed across his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart under her fingers.

_Magical,_

She giggled into his shirt.

He laughed with her, looking down at his brown-haired beauty with a dawning sense of accomplishment.

"How are you feeling?" he asked her with a wide, lazy grin.

"Like I could eat a _rainbow!"_ Bella crowed.

The room erupted in a chorus of agreement. Bella didn't even care that there were people engaged in intimate acts right in front of her. That Mike boy that approached her earlier, he was locking lips with more than one woman across the room. One had her hand down the front of his jeans, rubbing him. Bella no longer felt dirty, or that everybody here was perverted; she felt like their loving exchanges were beautiful.

_She_ felt beautiful.

A second girl leaned in for another kiss as the first girl, the blonde one bent lower, close to Mike's crotch, unzipping his jeans and freeing him from his boxers.

That's when it became a little bit heated for Bella, so she congenially turned her head away and instead rested her gaze upon the magnificent form she was curled up against on the floor. The carpet felt so soft under her skin.

She did wish someone would open a window, though, so it wasn't so stuffy inside there. But nobody seemed inclined to do so, they all looked as relaxed as she felt. Taking matters into her own hands, Bella sat up straight, Edward's hot palm resting on the small of her back as she grazed her fingers up her thighs.

Edward's eyes followed her hands and their movements like a cat watches a mouse.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his words more gathered and intelligible now that his attention was sharply pointed to Bella...and her legs.

"It's too hot in here," she muttered, yawning slightly before she reached to her hips under her dress and found the waist band of her skin-toned stockings. She lifted her bottom off of the floor and was awarded with a smile and wink from the man lazing across the floor from her, his eyes wandering to where her own hands travelled.

And much to her inner surprise, she didn't care.

Kicking her shoes off first, she felt the freeing of skin as she peeled the suffocating fabric from her legs.

"W-what, Bella..." Edward mumbled, his words slurred once again.

The air prickled against her bare skin, her dress was riding high up around her thighs and she loved the liberation without the worry of acting inappropriate. At least not in this carefree crowd she was in the middle of.

Nobody here was going to lecture her on decency. If the olive-skinned man sitting a few feet from her, smiling, was any indication, she needn't worry about loosening up and showing off some skin.

_Just to cool off, though._ She told herself.

"Hey," he greeted her, eyes a coal black but with a kind quality inside them.

"Hello." She said smiling, politely, back at the stranger.

She felt Edward sit up beside her in interest.

"What's your name sweetheart?" he asked, grinning and moving closer to sit on her other, vacant side.

"Bella," she breathed easily.

"I'm Demetri." He chuckled. "Have you been here before? Or is this your first time?" he squinted at her, but kept the mischievous grin on his mouth.

"I brought her here with me." Edward explained, standing up woodenly, dazed.

Bella followed his towering form, elated and scanning his stature in awe.

"Edward wouldn't mind if I brought you into the bedroom would he?" he murmured, playing with a stray lock of her silky chestnut hair.

Edward glared from his position, ready to snatch his hand away from her head if push came to shove.

"Just to talk, you know..." he licked his attractive, pouty lips and his eyes twinkled in anticipation.

"No," Edward denied, like Bella was a book that could be borrowed or something.

She shrugged, not really caring now, but thinking that she might later. Demetri looked at her probingly, as if her reply would counter Edward's, but instead of giving him his preferred 'yes', she offered a shake of the head and a genuine smile of apology.

"Sorry—maybe we should talk later?" Bella offered before she was lifted from the floor by warm, firm hands.

"Yeah, later," Edward grumbled dismissively as he gripped Bella's waist from behind and began guiding her away.

Would he push her into a bedroom too? Were they going to kiss again or did she have to wait even longer this time? Because she still felt the burn of his lips against hers from their heated moment in the kitchen.

She still remembered how his hardness felt against her stomach; how embarrassed but devious she felt at this new development.

Bella had never, and though she never would be a sexual creature. But as Edward's hands laid possession over her body, she felt that familiar burn she'd been trying to cure since their first kiss. She felt she could trust her new companion with her body. She, for some unfathomable reason, wholly trusted Edward.

She knew he could make her feel good.

"I warned them to lay off," he muttered to himself, irritated at something Bella was oblivious to.

"Where are we going?" she wondered absently, trailing her fingertips along the walls on either side of her as Edward's hands steered her aimlessly down the hallway.

The same carpet followed the floor throughout the house. It wasn't as worn out in this part though, it seemed that Ben and his guests spent most of their time in the living room, having parties and stuff.

"Oh!" Bella exclaimed suddenly, delighted.

The second last room at the end of the hall was mostly empty, containing nothing but a few scattered painting easels, paint pots and art equipment. Bella could discern a sofa underneath a stained white sheet, blotted with dried paint and what looked like ink.

Exultant, she staggered forward, feeling a little loose with her footing and reached the doorframe, urging Edward in behind her.

"I love doing art," she sighed longingly, her hands ghosting over a few dozen dirty jars of paint brushes, bristles pointing upward.

They tickled the palm of her hand.

"It's one of the subjects I was great at back at St. Augustines..." she went on, aware Edward was enraptured with every word that fell from her lips.

She wondered why he was so intent on her talking.

He wondered that too.

"You went to a Catholic school?" he asked with a smirk and then a chuckle.

"I should have guessed." He ran a hand through his bronze locks and rubbed the heels of his palms into his red-tinged eyes.

The carpet in this room was covered with brown butcher's paper, either for protecting the floor surface or it was there on the intent of making a piece of work.

Bella's feet crinkled and made imprints over the paper.

"So, why don't you paint something?" Edward asked, coming up behind her and plucking a brush from the expanse to choose from.

He dipped it in an opened pot of pink acrylic before dabbing the tip on her nose. She swatted his cheeky hand away but giggled in spite of herself. She eyed the closed door and nodded gratefully. She never had much patience for people who obtrusively watched her work on her art.

It was a private, personal thing, really. She didn't get a chance to go it much at home, apart from doodling in her sketch book.

Sometimes, she craved her own space. A space for freedom and creation...

Maybe she'd even attempt to draw a naked woman straddling a unicorn! Bella giggled to herself at her ludicrous thoughts before she wiped the tickling cold paint from her nose and smeared her hand over Edward's cheek.

"Ugh," he scoffed with wide eyes before grabbing another full pot of aqua blue and dipping his fingers in to drag them over her forehead.

Bella scrunched her nose up and laughed as Edward grinned.

She pursed her lips as she perused the colours available and happened upon a magnificent green. Copying Edward, she dipped her index and middle finger into the pot after unscrewing the cap off. She smeared two streaks on each of his cheeks, under each eye.

"That matches your eyes." She stated with a giddy smile.

Who knew a white stick could instil so much happiness!

Bella hardly knew what had gotten into her at this point; standing in a stranger's home with no accompaniment by her father, with another stranger and petty criminal, Edward Cullen, after _smoking_ and now she was acting childishly with an array of paints, smearing them on her friend and letting him do the same to her. It was silly and irresponsible, and she knew she was going to regret it later, but she couldn't let herself straighten out yet.

She was having more fun than she'd had in her entire straight-edged life.

Did that make her a sinner? If doing what she thought was great was a sin, why did God make sinning feel so good?

She supposed, the Devil might be at work here, trying to tempt her away from her path of goodness she was destined to embark on. Like how the devil tempted Moses.

Her theory may or may not have been confirmed when Edward leaned his body down to Bella's, pressing his lips to her own. Her credence quashed the moment his skin made contact with hers. It didn't matter though.

She felt no sense of loss, but a gain.

Her body tingled in anticipation—for what, she wasn't sure of. But she knew she wanted his body pressed more firmly to her curves. She needed the friction of their bodies closeness.

She wanted him to claim her as his own. _He_ wanted to claim her as his own.

And she wanted _him_ as her own. But she would never admit that to him. And he would never take what he knew she wasn't ready to give. Not just yet. But he was damn sure going to be there when she was, to bring her pleasure in the most beautiful, personal and intimate way possible, so that no-one, not any other man could, just in case they screwed it up.

Edward was anything but tactless...mostly. He knew he wouldn't just hand her over to someone else, she was his student, practically and she was learning from him—it's only logic to teach her the _entire_ way through until she was ready to cut loose and experience the outside world.

Bella would learn the ropes from him. She knew this. He was going to teach her, and she wasn't afraid. Nervous? Yes. But afraid, she was not. Dropping the paint simultaneously, Edward's hands slid around his student's petite waist and pulled her closer, closing the unacceptable gap between their torsos. Controlling himself proved to be quite the task with such a beautiful, willing learner. Bella, eager and aroused, clasped her hands behind his neck, fingertips twining with the hair at the nape of his neck.

And just like before, his hands, warm and huge against her body, gently palmed her breasts.

Edward felt them in his hands, shaped perfectly and fitting into his hands with ease, as if they were made to fit. He could feel her puckered nipples beneath the flimsy fabric she called a dress. Bella felt the warmth in her abdomen increase with every tiny amount of pressure Edward added to his touches. His thumb grazed over her sensitive buds, causing her to gasp whilst he backed her into one of the walls.

Stumbling over paint tins, they found refuge against the opposite wall, veiled in more butcher's brown paper and endless stacks of canvasses sat beside where they stood.

She felt every caress and breath from him as if it were a gift delivered from God himself. Every point of contact on their bodies sizzled and sparked like open wires connecting and entwining.

Bella refused to slow down, even if she should.

Edward had trouble finding the will to slow down, even if _he _should.

With a small amount of hesitation and bashfulness, Bella let her tongue glide into Edward's, tasting his mouth. He cocked his head to the side, gaining fuller access to her mouth as he gently plunged his tongue into hers. She breathed heavily and excitedly, savouring the feeling before it went away, along with today.

"Yes," Edward breathed shakily, clearing his throat as their lips grazed each other.

"You're doing well...you took initiative, I'm proud." He chuckled, loving her impatience as she clutched his shirt, pulling his mouth back to hers.

"Is this okay?" he asked, uncertain in his moves for the first time with a woman.

The innocent sure did fuck up the guilty.

"Mmmm..." she hummed as Edward's hand slipped over the curve of her bottom and squeezed.

"You have the cutest little ass," Edward commented.

Bella giggled in response; never the one to accept compliments without blushing furiously and stammering out a 'thank you'.

And she decided to try to test her newly acquired skills, nervous as she was, she attempted an amateur move and nibble lightly against Edward's bottom lip. He just tasted so good...

Shocked, he groaned with pleasure, grinding his hips desperately into Bella's, his erection going from hard to cast-iron in a split second.

"Always let the guy take the lead," Edward told her. "But never engage in the act if you don't want to." He added quickly.

She nodded in affirmation.

"Am I doing this right?" she asked shyly, fingering his hair lightly.

He nodded vehemently, reclaiming her mouth with his own, the heat emanating from between her legs making him throb painfully under the constraints of his jeans.

Bella felt wetness pool vigorously between her thighs, her panties quickly soaking. It was bizarre, but the feeling felt so good; she only wanted something to complete it.

Edward nudged her knees apart with his, pushing his thigh into her crotch with a feral growl; such an animalistic sound, so aggressive yet so magnetic to Bella. And if the fierce pulsing between her legs meant anything, it only indicated that what he was doing was _oh so right!_ How could it possibly be wrong?

"You need to learn the art of flirting...you need to have fun and express," his voice hoarsely croaked from between clenched teeth as Bella unconsciously began rubbing her heat against his leg.

He banged his forehead against the wall beside her face.

"Argh...have fun...to...play and—god, you need to stop that," Edward protested, removing his thigh before she began to fully dry-hump him like a horny dog.

She'd get off the proper way.

Panting and pink-cheeked, Bella blew hair out of her face and watched him expectantly. He took his head from the wall and glanced around, noting the smeared paint over her face with a laugh.

"Let's paint?" he said it like a question; he sounded almost nervous.

Impossible.

Bella frowned in confusion.

"Huh? You want to paint?" she asked, puzzled at his sudden request.

He nodded and shrugged then like a light bulb appeared above his head, a perfect idea formed inside his head. It must have been banging his head on the wall. He picked up the green, the rim crusted with dry paint. He took his shirt off, one-handed. Bella's eyes went as wide as saucers.

"W-what are you doing?" she stuttered, looking away before peeking quite conspicuously back at his leanly muscles chest.

Her mouth watered.

"Body painting," he explained easily, as if he did that type of thing every day.

Bella wondered if he did, it seemed second nature as he slopped a cupped hand of paint over his naked chest.

Taking a deep breath, Bella slid the strap of her dress down her arm, peeking up at him from under her lashes as she did so.

"You-you don't have to..." but his argument was lost as she pulled the hem of her dress up her waist, bearing all for the world—him—to see.

"Shit, I'm going to hell," he muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Bella smiled and pulled her dress all the way over her head. Edward almost had a coronary as her breasts were revealed, unhindered by a bra, ready and puckered, shaped for his mouth to claim.

"Egg shells, my friend; stepping on egg shells." He shook his head, swiping his hand over his face as she dropped the floral cloth to the couch to keep it from getting stained.

Both of them, topless, stood staring at each other; surveying and burning the images into their retinas. Bella felt too exposed, a feeling of worry clouding her prior confidence as she folded her arms over her chest, covering herself from Edward.

She was standing half-naked and indecent with a boy whom she was not married or promised to. Bella knew this was bad.

But his eyes told her something different.

Worshipping hands closed around her forearms, gently removing them from her chest to display her perky assets. Slowly, pain stakingly, Edward grabbed the paint and drew a green line down her chest, in between her peaks.

She was heaving each breath, shivering under his touch and drowning in an intense pleasure from his devoted hands.

"You have beautiful skin...don't try to hide something so superb from the world..." Edward whispered adoringly, eyes trained to each rose-pink nipple.

Bella grabbed her own pot of paint, a violet hue, dipping her fingers in and dotting it over Edward's bareness. She lingered over his flat nipples, hardly touching him but receiving such a fierce reaction. Edward almost buckled on his knees, his jeans growing too tight to bear. He needed to be inside her, he never wanted anything more than that, but he couldn't...not yet...

Her body, curvaceous, dripped with colour. And added with the sensation of being stoned; this day was quickly becoming one of Edward's and Bella's favourites.

His eyes zoomed on every length, every flowing line; the nook of her elbow, the crease over breasts meeting her ribs, the dip of her naval and the smooth, unbroken thread of her hips, leading smoothly to her thighs and calves. The column of her throat, just asking to be kissed, licked and nibbled.

But her breasts, her tiny puckered nipples, rosy and alert to his presence, were what almost killed him.

They were only matched by her eyes, wide, alight and excited with every movement they synchronised together.

Edward dropped his paint back on one of the tables and grasped her waist, his thumbs brushing very purposely on the underside of her tits, her skin slippery and delectable. Too bad she was covered in paint, he would have liked very much to lap her milky skin like a starving alley cat.

He pressed her body up to the paper covered wall, printing her from, her mounds and lines. There was a permanent record besides her actual body.

Bella shivered with the shocking cold of the paint on her skin and felt the action of pressing her to the wall weirdly erotic and...creative.

She was marking herself somewhere. She rolled and smooshed her body to the hard surface as Edward guided her. When the paint dried too much to make a mark, she pushed Edward to the wall, pressing his palms flat to the paper next to her body shapes in green. His purple forearms and shoulders appearing right next to her hand prints.

She took a step back from their work, tracing the line of her breasts on the paper with her fingers.

"It looks..."

"Naughty," Edward provided with a crooked grin.

"Ethereal." Bella said dryly but cracked a smile, too.

"We should clean you up." Edward commented, forgetting the painting.

He'd come back to Ben's and rip it off the wall, roll it up and glue it in his room like a second wall-paper. His mother would _love_ that.

He took her hand and lithely snuck into the hallway, checking that the coast was clear before nudging her into the bathroom. She had paint caked all over her body and so did he, but his appearance wouldn't matter too much. His parents rarely asked questions anymore. Bella's certainly would. And if she was grounded, he wouldn't get to see her as often as he'd like.

He picked her up easily and sat her on the lime green counter, a match to the one in the kitchen, except this was made out of porcelain. Bella garnered enough courage to let him dab at her chest with a wet cloth, wiping away traces of the afternoon they shared. Playful and sensual.

The fire in his eyes grew with each touch, his cock ready to be buried deep inside her; he knew she'd be hot and wet for him...and _tight._

Her skin was flushed under the paint, her skin becoming clean and back to it's normal shade of milky white.

Edward dropped the towel in the basin with a triumphant smirk before leaning down...slowly...bracing his hands on her cotton panty-clad hips, darting his tongue out to glance off her nipple. She gasped and used shaky hands to bring his face closer; the feeling was too good to turn down.

And he liked her; he wanted her, so she didn't have to be afraid.

He parted his lips and kissed her breast, his tongue gliding over it, licking and flicking against the pink nub. She moaned and lost all comprehensible thought while his mouth was on her.

He sucked and nipped his teeth along her sensitive skin, loving the taste of her already and dying to lose himself in her.

Kissing his way back up her chest, nipping her neck and running his tongue along her bottom lip, Edward halted what he'd started on the pretence that he would finish it another day.

Perhaps when they weren't covered with paint or high as kites.


	5. Chapter 5

~Prude and Prejudice.

_So, holy shit balls, this chapter is long. I guess it sorta makes up for not updating in so long...right?_

_RIGHT? I love you guys. Haha. Hope you enjoy this one.  
_

* * *

Summer was drawing to a close. Bella was, surprisingly, dreading going back to school. She understood how childish she was being, but she couldn't help but feel a sting of loss now that her fantasy land was coming to a halt, and she would have to face the real world. She would soon turn her back on Edward, not that he wouldn't stop buzzing around her like a fly. Oddly, he wouldn't leave her alone much despite her integration back into high school and her lack of time for his antics.

Bella wasn't annoyed though. She even enjoyed his constant company like that of a good book. Of course, her parents were growing suspicious of all the time she spent outside the house. Bella thought of how much more suspicious, or angry they'd be, if they found out she'd been with the Cullen boy.

_Never hang around with trash_, they always told her.

_Trash can tarnish your purity. It can ruin a reputation, not only yours, but ours, too. What kind of parents would we look like if our daughter associated with scum?_

_Well_, Bella acknowledged, _obviously they've never met Edward properly._

She sniffed, affronted, but tried not to show it, fleeing back to her bedroom. She was becoming a typical petulant teenager, just like those on the television with the rebellious attitudes. If Bella considered it, she knew she was gradually falling into the category of 'undesirable', as in she knew what she did was wrong. She tried the pot, but only once! And Edward was there, it's not like he'd let her do anything stupid!

He wouldn't. His warmth felt like safety. Whenever she was in his atmosphere, she felt it like a buzzing current of content. He helped her relax, however the only reason she was jittery in the first place could be because he touched her so tenderly on the shoulder, or whispered something crude but endearing in her ear.

Maybe it's because he would lightly press his lips to the corner of her mouth in greeting...?

She would sigh as she recollected this.

Her friends back home in Seattle, would have called him a dream boat. He was exactly the kind of boy that a father wouldn't want within a ten mile radius of their daughter. He was _bad._

As Bella lay, back flat and feet in the air, propped on the edge of the window in her room atop her bed, she thought about Edward's roughness. His aptitude for sins...

His delectable intelligence, which could be a trait designed to entice the unsuspecting cop's daughter. Just like his charming personality, and his obvious handsomeness. He was devilishly gorgeous...eyes like emeralds, a bizarrely attractive coat of stubble covering his chin and cheeks.

And that jaw!

Like it was chiselled into his bone structure...

Bella routinely sprawled herself over her bed for the evening. She's rather her own company than that of her parents, lately. She wasn't trying to seem like a hermit, of course, but she liked to spend time thinking about Edward...alone.

He'd taught her things about pleasure. About what to do when she felt that sort of pleasure...down there, from thinking about things like kissing, and touching.

Bella wanted so badly for Edward to touch her. Sometimes she almost thought he would, but he would scrunch his nose up as if smelling something bad, the moment his fingers came into contact with the elastic of her underwear. He'd sort of cringe and shut his eyes tight before taking his hand back and kissing her on the lips gently.

She was still learning his ways of freedom. She wasn't naive to the fact that their whole teacher-pupil system would look like he was taking advantage of her, from an outsider's assuming perspective. But that's just it, they could only assume. They wouldn't know that Bella completely consented to everything, which was scarcely anything inappropriate anyway (spare his lips on her breasts) and even wanted for Edward to go further, whatever that be.

He would always push away first, though. It intrigued her, infuriated her, and never failed to make her feel just a twinge of rejection every time he stopped himself from ravishing her.

Bella understood the basic mechanics of such things, although she'd hoped to save this part of life until she was married. Edward was slowly, well more like rapidly, chipping away at her pure, Catholic promise for abstinence. But Bella held strong to that resolve, just in case. If such things came before she intended, she only prayed it was with someone she could trust, if not love.

_Suspicious Minds_, by Elvis Presley began belting out of the radio the moment Bella turned the knob. She jumped in fright, forgetting how loosely the volume turned to full bore, before hastily twisting it down so it was merely background music to her isolation.

Elvis. The King. He was one of Bella's favourites. Such a smooth, velvety, deep voice, rumbling low like bass strings plucked one after the other, in a row.

She sat up against her headboard, noting the still mouldy patches of ceiling above her that she had yet to clean herself before she got lost in a pair of eyes she drew with charcoal on her sketch pad.

~0~0~

Bella sauntered into her parent's bedroom while her mother was busy in the bathroom and her father had just left for work.

She splayed her fingers against the cold, dark wood of her mother's vanity. Renee never used makeup, it was only for parties, and never for everyday use. Bella thought she just didn't care, or they couldn't afford the decent brands. She picked a stick of lipstick up off the table and stared at herself clutching the gold cylinder in the mirror between her fingers.

She pursed her lips, glanced to the doorway before uncapping it and dabbing it to her mouth.

Bella managed to apply enough without smudging it too much, or making her look like a diseased circus clown. She popped her lips, leaning forward over the pink, fluffy coloured stool Renee sat at to do whatever it is she did in front of the mirror.

Bella rarely took the time to admire her mother brushing her hair anymore. It seemingly didn't interest her the way it used to. She'd grown out of the trivial amusements of her childhood, and found different entertainment.

She admired her own hair now, longer, thicker and darker than Renee's. She loved her hair and would always complain when Renee would force her to get a trim. Bella replaced the red, waxy tube back on the table, re-thought her actions, and then deposited it in the pocket of her skirt.

The shade looked beautiful in contrast with her pale-ish skin, and dark hair. Almost reminding her of snow white and how they described the ethereal character in the books. Dark hair, as dark as ebony, skin as white as snow and lips as red as blood.

She heard Renee walking up the hall into the kitchen, and snapped back to reality, grabbing a few tissues to removed the colour. Renee would admonish her for putting such rubbish on her face, despite the fact that she did it.

Bella couldn't help but think about how much hypocrisy conspired within the walls of her house. Parents did that frequently, though, she supposed.

Bella was meeting with Edward today, she was so over-excited, she felt her face heating up even with the recent drop in temperatures in the lead up to Autumn.

She never failed to have this reaction when she was anticipating seeing him again. He was so close, she often thought of just walking to his house. Though, not much good could come from that, she was certain. If the good Doctor Cullen caught her there, she knew, like the upstaning citizen and father he is, would report it to Charlie, and Bella would be grounded, therefore prevented from spending the time with Edward she wanted to.

The risk wasn't worth it if she knew Carlisle would talk. And then there is his wife. She knew Mrs. Cullen was a lovely lady, and had seen her in passing on the street although never approached her. She reminded Bella a little of Grace Kelly, beautiful and sumptuous in her looks with an air of timelessness. A quality which meant she would look perfect at any age.

Bella hadn't been brave enough to confront her or introduce herself as her son's friend. Questions would still be raised, although with the small amount of talking Edward had done about his parents, Bella knew that if she were to be caught at the Cullen's house without permission, she would prefer she be sprung by Esme and not her husband.

Apparently she was a cooler customer.

Waiting until 2pm was difficult to say the least for a stir-crazy Bella. Renee would have asked her why she was so uptight and strained, bouncing up and down on the sofa, watching the clock, but she ignored her daughter.

She was focussed solely on her cross-stitch pattern, threading colourful string through the white mesh. Barely any skill required, Bella always thought.

Why would her mother want to engage in such a tedious task and call it fun and therapeutic? She never understood, although Renee always thought Bella's sketching was boring in itself. Perhaps she was right, but if she knew the work of art Bella created at the hands of a paint-smeared-half-naked-neighbour-boy, she wouldn't think that so much.

She sprinted out the door, expecting to have to run around the block to waste time but once she reached the first landing on her way down the flight of stairs, she saw Edward through the grimy glass of the front door, his finger poised to press the buzzer.

Her eyes widened before she threw herself down the stairs, tumbling on the last three and landing in a heap with a muttered 'fooey'.

Edward's fist banged against the door as he watched Bella topple down the stairs.

"Shit!" he spluttered, waiting for her to get up.

He fidgeted with the door knob, even though it was locked and there was no way of getting inside to help her.

"Bella, are you okay?" he called through the door, hoping his voice would carry enough for her to hear.

"I'm okay!" I declared, getting shakily to her feet.

"I just sprained my wrist, I think." She said, holding her pinkish hand up as evidence.

She shook her head, red-faced and so embarrassed that Edward probably saw up her skirt, as she stared at the door and tried to unlock it to get outside.

"Are you okay?" he asked immediately after pulling the heavy wooden door open.

Bella held the door open with one hand as they both examined her wrist, Edward's face bent over it as if it was an injured dove.

The paint was dry and old, peeling green flakes into her palm. She let go of the door and brushed her hand against her skirt impatiently.

Edward grimaced as he gently prodded the heated, tender flesh around her dainty wrist. He finally looked up into her eyes and saw no pain reflected there, not even masked pain.

"I'm fine," she shrugged easily.

She's had worse. Charlie's belt was a much harsher wound to bear on your backside than just a small twist of her hand against the stair case. She felt a slight dizziness in her head, but that was where it stopped. She was not in the mood to be coddled, so she pushed her palm flat against Edward's chest so he let her pass, grabbing her good wrist with his before walking after her down the concrete steps and onto the pavement.

Bella absently twisted her hand around in circles, feeling for any stiffness in her joints before turning a blazing smile on her companion.

"So, what should we do today? Daddy is working until dinner time, and Momma is a bit tied up in her craft, so we have the whole day together." She announced excitedly, stretching to her tip-toes.

Edward grinned, somewhat hesitantly.

"I wanted to ask you something." He began.

Bella's chest swelled with expectancy.

"Yes...?"

"There's a party at my friend, Jame's house. He's uh—it's a sort of end-of-Summer thing. I know it's not the kind of thing you might usually attend, but...I'd think it'd be swell if you joined me." His smile was lopsided and cruelly adorable.

It did things to Bella's insides.

"O-okay," she answered without thinking.

"Really? No need to ask permission or anything like that?" he pressed, bewildered and elated that he wouldn't have to go there alone, and awkward for the first time ever.

Bella had become somewhat of a novelty.

He didn't feel comfortable around his own people anymore, and it worried him. He feared he was losing his edge, his freedom, afraid he was slowly falling back into conformity of the modern, facist world.

Bella seemed to be the antidote, or the catalyst.

Either way, having her there would make him more comfortable.

He reached down and pecked her on the tip of her nose, a cold blustery wind swirling around their bodies. He wrapped his arms around her waist unconsciously, as if it was second nature by now.

She was cold. He would keep her warm.

Simple.

Edward took Bella into town and they ate lunch together at the cafe where Jacob worked.

Bella ate her salad slowly, calculating every bite to make sure she didn't get any on her cardigan or her pleated skirt or blouse.

Edward reached over the table, his mouth full of burger, and tucked Bella's hair over her shoulder and behind her ear. He went back to eating as if nothing had happened.

Jacob came over with their soda refills and gave Bella a sparkling smile, grabbing an empty chair from a table beside their usual booth seats and sitting down on the edge, closer to Bella than Edward.

Something that made Edward want to hook his leg around Bella's chair leg and drag her closer to him. You don't interfere with a tutor and his learning pupil!

Jacob made small talk with Bella, asking her how she was liking the city and when she went back to school.

"Lowell High, huh?" Jacob mused as Bella nodded.

"Have you been there?" she asked.

"Well, no..." he said awkwardly.

"Oh! Oh, of course. How daft of me..."she muttered, cheeks stained pink as she realised the segregation of races still applied to that particular school.

Jacob could have gotten into that school if he truly pushed for entry. You had to pass requirements and prerequisites to gain enrolment, and even though we were supposedly working towards equality in The Haighte, and the entirety of San Fran Cisco, there was still the natural stigma.

"Don't worry about it, Bella." He grinned, shrugging off her mistake and leaning closer to her, egging Edward on.

_I won't react. I won't react. I won't react._ He chanted to himself.

Bella giggled at something Jacob-the-hairy-behemoth said, that Edward noticeably missed while trying to avoid doing something rash.

Jacob's elbow leant against the wood, next to Bella's half-empty plate, smiling crookedly in an attempt to mimic Edward's trademark smirk, which seemed to work with all the ladies in this town.

He brushed his finger tips against Bella's arm as they both laughed, making contact, crossing a line. Edward was seething in his seat, watching their carefree exchange with an intense amount of malice. Bella stopped laughing, her giggles dying out when she realised they had been excluding Edward from the conversation.

He was looking the other way when she glanced at him, but she felt bad anyway for leaving him out. Jacob stood up then, gathering their plates and leaving them with their Colas. He winked at Bella as he scooted off back into the kitchen and out of sight.

Bella dipped her straw into her glass, playing with it before taking a long sip. The fizz burned her throat and nose until her eyes watered. She hiccupped, catching Edward's attention and reluctant but resigned smirk.

He leaned forward but didn't touch his drink, instead he stayed silent and contemplative, staring at his hands.

"Will you teach me more at the party?" Bella blurted out, desperate for some kind of reaction or movement from his stagnant features.

It worked.

Edward looked up into her eyes, his infinitesimally darker than before, his lips parted in shock.

"Uh..."

"Bella!" a loud voice crowed.

Edward cringed and visibly curled in on himself for a second, hating that they were interrupted, and especially whom by.

Charlie-the Police Chief-Swan strutted another male cohort, probably a rookie by the looks of his face. He looked young, over-confident and stupid. Sort of like Edward, except the difference was Edward knew he could be overconfident and not get anything wrong.

At least he hoped.

Bella jumped, as if someone poured ice water down her back.

She turned around to watch her father enter the cafe, clicked his fingers at Jacob who reacted instantly and began brewing him a coffee with a scowl as he approached his daughter.

His moustache twitched, not in a way that made it look like he was going to smile. But in a way that showed he was irritated...or possibly worse.

Thankfully, Edward bravely stood up from the table, looked Charlie dead in the eye and held his hand out to shake it.

Charlie looked down at his extended palm, looked back into Edward's eyes before pretending he didn't see him there at all. Edward clenched his jaw, lowered his hand, then didn't say anything.

_Remember who has the gun_, he reminded himself.

Charlie turned his attention to Bella, burning curiosity and incredulousness lying beneath his eyes.

"Who's this young man, Bella? And why aren't you at home?"

Bella went on to explain that Renee let her out of the house for today, and that this young man was Doctor Cullen's son. Luckily he didn't recognize him from their first day in The Haighte as the lunatic that almost hijacked their Cadillac.

Charlie appraised the boy, who he thought was much too old to be around his young daughter, with a speculative squint.

Edward felt as though he was being X-rayed.

Bella shifted nervously in her seat, wanting to separate the two from each other in case Charlie decided to do a full body search on her friend.

"So, Edward was kind enough to escort me out today. You know what the streets are like, around this place. How good it was of Edward to come with me." She explained with a small smile in Edward's direction.

"Yes, I couldn't let her go out by herself and associate with...bad types." Edward smiled congenially, eyeing Bella sneakily.

He didn't try to offer his hand to shake again. Charlie just nodded, but didn't say anything in response to his words or explanation.

Instead he turned to his daughter for information, like she was the translator and Edward was a foreign exchange student or something.

"You should invite Elbert over to dinner, Bells. Make us some company, will you? And don't forget to tell your mother she'll be cooking for four tonight. Don't disappoint me, son." He nodded in Edward's direction, which, perhaps, was as close to a blessing he could get, even with the wrong name.

Bella looked pale and anxious but Edward was keen to prove himself worthy in Bella's father's eyes. And her mother's, if possible.

~0~0~

Bella was wringing her napkin under the table on her lap. Charlie was serving out some roast Pork to everyone, and Edward sat opposite her, eyes on her father.

Nervous about this entire night and what it could mean for both her and Edward, Bella fidgeted with her utensils, lining them up, pushing them apart, and rearranging them. She took so many sips of her water that she needed to excuse herself for the bathroom twice.

Renee looked at Edward as if she'd never seen a man before. Her eyes glazed over slightly as she took him in at the door. He wore a light blue button down, a shirt Bella never thought she'd see adorning that man. He also wore grey slacks and a navy sweater to go over the top, which was hung over the back of his chair.

Bella had her hair pushed back from her face with a head band, which pinched her scalp and gave er a headache on top of the insurmountable stress she was under, just from having Edward in the same room as her father.

He was a ruthless, strict, traditional man. If Edward compromised that, accidental or otherwise, he would be forbidden to show his face here again.

Bella was sure of it, and so terrified that Charlie wouldn't approve of him spending time with her. She couldn't bear the thought, so she occupied herself with poking at her strained peas and beans, waiting for Charlie to place some meat on her plate.

"So, honey," Charlie began, addressing Bella.

"Have you prepared all your books and such for going back to school?" he licked his thumb of gravy before digging in.

Edward pondered his food for a moment, Bella shot him a 'please-eat' look, which he sighed at and began eating.

Bella cleared her throat with some difficulty, her face hot and her chest tight before nodding and plastering a smile on her face, hoping it seemed genuine.

"I hope you're looking forward to it." He commented, chewing.

Edward smiled at Bella and she relaxed a little bit. Renee was swooning at the other end of the table as the silence wore on, so she knew she wouldn't have to convince her mother that Edward was a great boy.

Charlie turned to Edward then, feeling he could barely get any more stimulating conversation out of his jittery daughter.

"So where do you go to school, Edwin?"

Bella bit her lip, stabbing at food on her plate that she wasn't even looking at. She was staring intently at the wall above Edward's head.

"Edward." He corrected, "And, I don't go to school, sir. I graduated..." it was his turn to clear his throat nervously.

"...uh, two years ago." He finished with a tight smile.

Charlie made a noise of assent, a sort of 'huh', only with a closed mouth.

"You going to college?" he pressed with a more scrutinising tone.

Edward shook his head slowly.

"I'm looking into college as a possibility. Carlisle always wanted me to be a doctor, but I'm not sure it's right for me..." he trailed off.

Bella blew a large breath out of her lungs when Charlie nodded in understanding, somewhat satisfied with that answer.

He continued to watch Edward so painstakingly close, as if waiting for him to slip up in some aspect. Maybe he thought he might catch him sneaking chunks of carrot into his napkin.

He hated carrot.

"Are you going to college, Bella?" Edward asked tentatively from his hot seat, focussing the attention on her for a moment.

He already knew that she did. That little rat was trying to make her uncomfortable under the limelight.

"I, uh...I do, I—"

"Yes, she does." Charlie answered for her with a proud smile.

"She'd going into teaching, aren't you sweetie?" he said, wiping at his top lip with his napkin, grinning.

"Um, sure." Bella agreed, although it's not even close to what she aspired.

"Wait a minute..." Edward murmured softly, soft enough that Charlie thought it was okay to ignore it.

"But of course, when you get married, you won't necessarily have to work at all. Especially when you have our grandchildren. You just have to wait for that special someone. I'm waiting on the day he comes and asks for your hand, sweetie." He chuckled.

Edward was astonished.

"Just...hold on for a second..." he said, too softly again.

Charlie patted Bella's hand condescendingly as Bella stared at her plate, not hungry at all anymore.

"Renee and I are looking forward to that day. We both know you'll do okay with teaching. You have a natural ability with the kids. And it will be good practice for when you're a stay at home mother..."

"Let me talk!" Edward raised his voice.

Bella dropped her fork, and the only noise in the now silent apartment was the metal clinking softly against the porcelain.

"Just wait." Edward said, his eyes wild, his jaw clenched in frustration and his skin reddened at his hairline and the tops of his ears.

"I'm sure Bella told me that she wanted to study Art in college, isn't that right?" he directed the question at Bella this time.

She stuttered around a confirmation, then a denial, as Edward's face fell into disappointment then back to anger.

"Just leave it alone." Bella hissed, nudging his shin with her foot under the table.

"Don't you raise your voice like that in my house, young man." Charlie chastised.

"You're not letting your daughter speak, obviously I had to talk loud so you could hear her over your own fucking voice." Edward spat, standing up.

The chair scraped loudly against the wooden floor boards and Bella felt her eyes stinging at the drastic and terrible turn of events.

"You will use no such language!" Charlie bellowed, his face growing purple with rage.

Edward fumed.

"I wouldn't need to if you weren't stupid enough not to understand your daughter doesn't want to do teaching. What if she doesn't want kids? What if she doesn't want to be a fucking ignorant house wife?" he snarled, enraged for god knows what reason at all.

I stood up, as did Renee, although her eyes were bizarrely bright and excited. I skirted the table and came around to keep the two apart, like I wanted to in the cafe.

"Please, Dad! Edward!" I objected, pushing them apart as they got into each other's faces.

"Go to your room, Bella. I'll speak with you later." Charlie growled, glaring at Edward who quickly retorted.

"Don't just dismiss her like she's beneath you. She's a human being, not a fucking robot. Respect her!" he took a wrong turn, poking his finger into Charlie's chest.

A threat.

Charlie pushed back.

"Get out of my house." He said in a low, scary voice.

Edward stared at him, levelling his gaze with a superior smirk.

"I said, get out!" he shouted, pitching forward.

I lunged in between them, pushing Edward back slightly and moving to restrain my father. He backed up, furious before striking me across the face with the back of his hand.

I wailed, mostly in shock and not pain.

He caught me by surprise, and I caught him off guard too. I got in the way. And as I stumbled back, hand clapped over my cheek, Edward tackled my father, causing him to fall backwards over his upturned chair.

I screamed and Renee screamed.

"Stop!" I sobbed.

"Stop!"

I clawed at Edward's back, terrified for the both of them. Charlie lashed his fist across Edward's face and I dug my fingers into Edward's shoulders, trying to pry them apart.

Edward stood up straight, panting and disoriented.

He watched Charlie hit his own daughter, and with such malevolence.

He had no choice but to react to his deeper buried primal instincts. Fight, protect.

Edward backed off from her father after she tried to pull them from their scuffle. He made sure to keep his body in front of Bella's, though.

"Get away from my daughter." He ground out in a heavily exerted voice.

He slumped against a chair as Renee fussed over him, tears covering her cheeks. Edward looked around to face Bella who had a pinkish mark covering her cheek. Edward bit his tongue, tasted blood.

Charlie glared at Edward with all the hatred in the world.

Instead of standing there, he stalked to the door, doing what he was told.

"I won't report this because your father is an important man, and I'd hate to see his reputation disembowelled because of a feral spawn. Stay away from Bella, or I'll have you arrested." He threatened.

Bella cried even harder, her fears becoming a sick reality as Edward slammed the door behind him. She ran after him.

"Wait!" she cried. Edward kept moving.

"Wait, Edward!"

He slammed his hand up against the door of their building, his face red and overheated. Bella caught up to him.

"Don't listen to him. We can still see each other, we just have to—"

"No." Edward whispered.

"What?" Bella choked out after a moment of stunned silence.

"I said no, and you know why?" Edward asked acidly with narrowed eyes.

He looked at Bella, petite, small and fragile, brown curls handing at her waist like a priceless china doll. His heart clenched.

Bella opened her mouth, but her lip trembled too much, so she shut it.

"I was hoping to prove I was worthy of you, Bella. I thought I could make it clear to them..." he motioned upstairs.

He shook his head with his lips clenched tightly together.

"But how can I make them realise it, if _I_ don't even believe it?"

"But you are—"

"I'm not, Bella. I was yelling at your old man for not respecting you, and what have I done lately? I've corrupted you, an innocent, virginal catholic girl. I'm being a hypocrite. I'm no better than him and how he treats you."

Edward let out a huge breath, avoiding looking at her face as her heart visibly broke.

"I'm not right for you, Bella." He said, looking out the door.

"You're not right for me. I can't do this to you, so...find someone else."

It took all of his strength to push open that fucking door, not that it was the heaviness holding him back, but the pained, hurt expression on Isabella Swan's face as he closed the door on her.

She shoved the door open, too, following him into the night.

"Wait, you don't have to leave like this! I know this has been a terrible night, but we're made for forgiveness..." she trailed off, feeling stupid because Edward was chuckling to himself, humourlessly.

"Maybe you can, sweet cheeks. You're little Bella. You're untainted by this fucked up world and the cruel reality is that everyone are liars. Nobody forgives anyone. They only pretend. So don't kid yourself, Bella. You wouldn't understand..." he said, shaking his head as he turned around.

"...you're just a kid."

* * *

A/N_ Just to keep you holding on; there will be SMUT in the next chappie. I'm talking SMUT. Not necessarily between E AND B. Possibly :D_


	6. Chapter 6

_I apologise in advance for any mistakes. I don't have a beta, and I'm just too lazy to go through everything that many times. I'm sorry for the mistakes in last chapter, too, which I fixed. I am giving you guys a real treat right now._

_TWO UPDATES. OMG, no way!_

_Yes. Two chapers, one after the other, straight away, because this mother fuck is just too big. So there. :D_

_-birobird  
_

* * *

Bella, robotic, turned away from Edward's retreating form. She couldn't watch him walk away from her. What sort of cosmic imbalance had caused the night to go so awry?

With clammy hands, she stroked the swollen skin of her eyes, gathering her tears and wiping the moisture on her skirt. She stopped when she realised it didn't matter. Only her parents would have to see her cry. To Edward, she was just another upset child, fawning over an older man who obviously held no interest in her.

Cruel, that he initiated contact with her in the first place. Cruel, that he gave her hope with his kisses, so warm and tender, just to disrespect her and call her too young and naive to understand the ways of the world. Bella knew what was right and wrong, simply enough.

She knew that abandoning your friend so suddenly in the middle of the street after a catastrophic dinner with her parents was despicable.

Bella rarely cursed, and although it pained her, she had picked up somewhat of a habit over the Summer because of Edward.

Bella knew what Edward was being right now.

He was being a bastard, and maybe he was right to walk away. Bella didn't truly believe that, but it was easier to swallow than to pine after him pathetically. She caged herself with her arms, not letting anything seep out of her heart anymore. She sucked in a deep breath, numbed the sting of his absence, and opened the front door, letting it fall shut silently behind her.

She followed the stairs up to the landing outside their apartment door. She could hear Renee and Charlie talking on the other side. She no longer cared if they were angry at her for letting someone like Edward inside their home. She knew they'd never let this go, but somehow, she felt immune to whatever discipline they could dish out to her.

"Bella." Charlie stated sternly as Renee rubbed his shoulder, still checking to see if he was hurt further.

He stood up from his chair and approached Bella, who shrunk away slightly. For once, Charlie didn't get angry, he only looked ashamed...guilty?

Bella watched him curiously, distantly. Her heart and mind were a thousand miles away, or, rather, just a few yards around the block.

Charlie put two, timid hands on her shoulders and lowered himself onto his knees in front of her.

"I...am sorry for hitting you, Bella. I was overwhelmed and I lashed out. I'm sorry." He preached, and by the low tenor of his voice and the warming colour of his brown irises, Bella understood that he was being sincere.

Renee was still quietly weeping behind him, with a handkerchief clutched to her mouth.

Bella glanced at her mother, then back down to her father who was slowly standing up.

"Okay." She simply said as her father embraced her.

"You have to stay away from that boy, Bella." He added seriously with his face in her hair.

He kissed the top of her head.

"He's not a good boy for you. No-one will ever be good enough for you, but at least we can try to get the best out there." He smiled apologetically, eight shades different from the man insane with rage she saw at the dinner table tonight, strangling Edward.

"Okay." She said again, not disagreeing with him.

She felt as though that was all she could say.

"I think you should get cleaned up, honey. Have a shower then get a good night's rest, alright?" Charlie nudged her in the direction of the hall, rubbing at his jaw which is probably where Edward hit him.

Bella let her fingers splay out against the walls on her either side as she walked the short corridor to the bathroom.

It reminded her of the day she spent with Edward at Ben's house. The painting on the wall, the beautiful way their bodies looked, printed in multi-colours across the paper.

She sighed, forced herself to focus on her feet and hands as she stepped into the bathroom and shut the door.

She undressed, avoided looking at her naked form in the mirror, and turned the faucets around. She wondered if she would be repulsed by her own body, now that because Edward had touched it, she would be forever reminded of what he did to her.

Because he touched her in such a good way, it would make the memories all the more hard to remember. Not that they would become withered and vague with the passing of time, like brittle pages of an old sketch pad, but they would become so intensely powerful, that to touch them with her mind would be like touching the heated, coil element on the stove.

It would sting, and it would burn.

Bella's hands shook as she stepped under the spray, methodically cleaning every inch of her body before sitting down on the floor of the shower, letting the warm water envelop her until it ran stone cold.

Edward may not be the right boy for her, he may not deserve her, and he may not be the best.

But it's who she wanted.

She pressed her cheek into her knees, facing her opposite cheek up to the chilled droplets of water that lost their heat.

The water smelled slightly of copper from the old pipes inside the walls.

Bella could still feel the throb left in the wake of her father's hand on her cheek.

~0~0~

Out of spite and, let's say, a need for a distraction, Bella decided she would go to this end-of-summer party that Edward told her about. She would go, she would have fun, and she would meet some new friends.

She didn't care that sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night was bad form. If her parents ever found out, she would tell them where to stick their discipline.

But they never had to, and she could easily just forget about it.

This could just be closure. She would go to this party, sate her thirst for rebelliousness and when Bella was old and grey, she would remember this night as the night she flew off the handle, but came home a different girl, then everything would go back to normal from then on.

The man named Edward Cullen would only be a speck on her past, a boy she met the Summer she moved away from Seattle. She probably wouldn't even remember his name when she was an adult. She could forget just as easily if she met someone who treated her right, respectfully, as Edward admitted it was something he wasn't doing. Like a childhood friend who's Polaroid had faded beyond recognition, Edward's face would, surely, like all the others, dissolve from Bella's memory.

Perhaps she would find someone tonight.

Bella searched the pockets of her skirt to find the lipstick she snatched off of her Mother's vanity table. She pondered it for a moment in the darkness of her room, knowing her parents were falling obliviously asleep in the next room.

She didn't have the right attire to attend what would most probably be a stoner's convention at James' house, but she wasn't going to miss out on attending, especially now that she felt so resolved to be bad.

Bella reached for her bedside lamp, the click reverberating through the room. Bella cringed at every small amount of noise she made, the creak of the floor boards she shifted her feet on, the sound of her bed springs as she sat on the edge of the mattress.

She sifted through her draws for a compact mirror, then sat down, spread the lipstick over her mouth, smacked her lips the way she learnt from her mother, and replaced it in her pocket. She wore her usually pleated skirt tonight; black. She wore a dark blue blouse and a cardigan over the top. Appraising herself, she decided she would never be able to fit in with what she was wearing. Biting her lip in frustration, Bella realised that she didn't have any clothes that you wouldn't find at a nunnery, as Edward called a convent. Just another bad habit she'd unknowingly adopted from him.

Ignoring this, she stripped and, shivering, pulled a dress over her head. It zipped up at the back, with capped sleeves and reached down to her mid-thigh. The fabric was white with inch-thick navy blue stripes across it. It was modest and feminine, nothing too conservative, though. She pulled her sweater back over the top, hoping it would feel warmer inside James' house.

Bella had been fortunate enough to procure an escort to the party, however. Jacob was, unsurprisingly, completely willing to attend with the Swan girl. He was struck by her looks, and even more so by how unaware she was of them.

Bella heard the slight rumble of a car parked close by outside the building. Hastily, she opened her bedroom door, closing it gently, before slowly padding down the hall, her shoes clutched in her hands to keep her noises to a minimum, lest she alert Charlie to her active defiance.

Turning the brass knob of the front door, she pushed it open, noting how it stuck slightly as she pressed her weight against it. Hopefully she wouldn't make enough noise to rouse Charlie or Renee from their slumber.

Bella felt a rush of adrenaline flood her veins, invigorating her brain to the point of sheer energy, like an over-powered light bulb. She was excited. She was breaking the rules without any pressure from outside sources, namely the boy who she tried not to think too hard about.

Keeping to the shadows, as if she suspected her father to be watching the stairwell for his daughter, Bella tip-toed to the door of the building, opening, closing and locking. She patted the loose pocket of her cardigan where her key was hidden. The key her mother had grudgingly gifted to her in case she got locked out before coming home from one of her usual mid-day escapades.

Jacob's car, a relatively new-looking blue Bentley was parked further down the street. Bella eyed the mural of a half-naked woman adorning the side panel; she was standing with her back to her, in a scandalous black swimsuit, leaning on a ship's steering wheel. Bella chewed the inside of her cheek as she neared the passenger door. She watched Jacob through the windshield as he reached over to unlock her door.

Taking the handle, she let herself in and settled into the leather bench seat, light beige in colour. Bella realised the car looked older and more worn on the inside. Perhaps Jacob only cared about taking care of the outer appearance?

"I like your car." She noted as Jacob let the car roll down the hill and past their building.

He stepped on the gas a little as they rounded the corner onto a busier street.

"Thanks. My Dad gave it to me after he got put in his wheelchair. It's been mine for two years, but we've had it in our family for almost ten."

Bella nodded appreciatively.

"It looks new on the outside."

Jacob just smirked.

Scanning the partially empty streets on the other side of her window, Bella reconsidered her lipstick.

"I like your dress," Jacob said before clearing his throat and shifting in his seat.

Bella fluffed her hair a little, unconsciously.

"Oh, thank you, Jacob. I...I knew I wouldn't fit in with anything else I wear. This is all I had." She explained self-consciously, biting her waxy lip.

Jacob glanced at her from the corner of his eye, down her body, to her thighs where her dress barely covered the creamy white skin. He breathed in deeply, registering the scent of her hair and skin and warmth.

"I'm sorry about your Father, too. That must be awful." She added, almost as an afterthought.

But Bella was usually an unselfish girl. If someone came bearing bad news, she would find a way to remedy the pain, whether she knew she was doing it or not.

Her intentions for other people were always good. She was like anaesthetic, but better. She wouldn't numb the pain, she could make someone feel it through conversation but cause them to feel good about the pain. Pain is human.

Jacob frowned and looked side-long at his companion.

"Um...thanks." he murmured uncomfortably.

Nobody ever spoke about his father, or offered condolences. They were not the war heroes of the 30s or 40s, they were the conformist, war mongers of the 60s. Nobody welcomed them home.

And it's not as if he'd lost his father in the physical sense, but after Vietnam, he barely spoke any words to his youngest son. He acted a ghost, like the young men he fought alongside in the swampy marshes, Billy Black's spirit was as good as gone.

"So, why isn't Cullen taking you to this thing?" he steered the conversation away from the impending awkward silence after talking to a stranger about personal issues.

Bella sighed and crossed her arms, signalling her contempt and concealing her hurt.

Jacob raised an eyebrow and chuckled.

"You finally realised he isn't an angel, huh?" Jacob queried teasingly. "Well," he sniffed, turning another corner.

"It was bound to happen soon. What did he do to scare you away? You saw him with another girl, didn't you?" Jacob laughed bitterly, jealously.

To him, Cullen was an ass, but that didn't stop the fervent envy he felt.

"Dipping his Johnson in another gal?" he pressed, enjoying the thought of Edward failing at hooking Bella.

Bella breathed heavily through her nose, composing her reply.

"He does that a lot?" she asked, not giving away her complete lack of this knowledge.

She had no idea Edward was a ladies man, though of course, she should have assumed so with his looks and charm alone, even if she never saw anything of the sort.

Jacob was triumphant in his seat, grinning from ear to ear like a demented clown. His skin had a sort of glow, unlike Edward's, it reflected an amber hue, like a creamy gold light illuminated his skin in the dark.

Bella felt her adrenaline draining from being stationary too long. With clammy fingers she rubbed her forehead and pinched one of her cheeks.

Rarely was it that she stayed up this late.

And this whole mislead adventure of hers would be meaningless if she couldn't stay awake through the entire night.

"He does do it a lot, yes." Jacob confirmed, his hands loose on the steering wheel.

"Usually he doesn't even bother to hide it." He continued despite Bella's silence.

She pursed her lips like you would if you were going to peck someone on the cheek or forehead.

"He has an amazing talent for gathering girls to exploit." Jacob shook his head, half in resentment, and half in admiration.

He had a girl once, Kate, her name was. She was from a typical white bred family, all American, traditional values, Christian and racist.

He wasn't allowed to see her, and she wouldn't defy her parents to meet him after dark.

That was another aspect of Bella that Jacob liked. She was rebelling but not because she was being forced or trained. She was acting up against the establishment, she was doing what she wanted because she wanted to do it.

If only Kate had been this proactive.

"I'm not a collector's item." Bella grumbled, eyes narrowed into dagger slits as she stared at the scuffed dash.

"No, of course not." Jacob conceded truthfully.

"Bu he chose to prey on you because you seemed like an easy target."

Bella felt the car slow down and the engine idle before the click of the key in the ignition turned it off. Jacob deposited the key in his trousers and turned slightly to look at Bella.

She glanced across the street to where it was obvious, the party was.

The lights were on, people were stumbling around the front lawn, tripping over plastic flamingos. It was like the ground was too uneven for them to walk. They kept tripping over nothing but air or their own feet.

"He said I was just a kid." Bella murmured in the dark space between them.

It felt smaller now somehow.

Jacob's brown eyes bored into hers as he sucked in a breath like he was hurt by the acidic words not meant for him.

"Ouch." He commented with an apologetic grimace.

He patted the back of her hand that rested on her knee slowly, friendly. She smiled back, tightly before loosening her muscles a bit and nodding her head.

"Come on, I want to have some fun." She muttered, opening the door of the Bentley.

The metal creaked loudly as she closed it, looking both ways across the street as she jogged to the other side, Jacob striding just next to her.

The house looked like Ben's from the outside, but slightly more upper class and clean. Jacob placed his palm on the small of her back and guided her along the chipped cement garden path up to the door.

He opened it without knocking and led Bella inside. He smiled over his shoulder at Bella, moving in front of her and grasping her hand to drag her through the packed crowd inside.

Bella wondered what the walls looked like, because she could barely see past the tall men everywhere.

Edward sat in the corner with a beer can balanced on his knee. Neither had seen the other yet. He had his elbow resting on the arm of the floral, plastic-covered sofa.

He fingered the cold, shiny, smooth surface and thought seriously about melting it with his lighter. He'd thought a lot about setting everything on fire for the past week.

He couldn't find an interest in anything. Edward felt like someone had wrapped him in packing tape, his skin unable to feel, his eyes unable to see past the haze of white. It was like he was blind, deaf and tasteless.

Nothing appealed, and everything was boring. It was as if he stood in a white room, blank with no tables, chairs, paintings or photos on the walls. Then when he closed his eyes, all he could see was the girl with brown hair and brown eyes.

He licked his lips, took his last swig of beer and crushed the can in his fist. He would forever be the "other" guy at the swingers parties. Edward would become the plain John Doe with no friends but with an air of superiority over all who arrived, which would give him a status of unapproachable.

He grabbed his pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his leather jacket hanging over the back of the sofa. He sighed and pulled one from the packet, pinching it between his lips before clicking his lighter and cupping his hand around the flame.

He closed his eyes for a moment, blowing the smoke from between his lips and out his nose.

Suddenly, he felt the warmth and cushion of someone's lips against his. Hoping for one person, but getting another. He opened his eyes and saw a pair of blue glacial irises.

"Rose," he mumbled against her lips, leaning back to gain some distance.

"Hey, baby!" she grinned, flopping down ungracefully on the sofa next to him.

Her skirt was so short that her bare ass squeaked against the plastic. She sighed long and heavy, wafting her breath into Edward's face. It was bitter smelling and made Edward want to turn his head away. She was sipping on Tequila and lemonade, a lime wedge floating inside her glass.

"You look unhappy," she mused, cocking her head and shifting herself so she was straddling his lap.

Edward sighed again in resignation. Why else did he come here? To forget, to erase, to replace.

So, instead of pushing her away like he wanted, he decided to pacify her. Edward stubbed his cigarette out in the ash tray on the coffee table beside him. There was a lamp there, sitting on a lace doily. James was such a Momma's boy, he only dared to have parties when his parents were out of town.

Edward, in any other circumstance, would have had a party at his house, because the Cullens were on their second honeymoon for their twenty-fifth anniversary. But somehow, he wasn't feeling very hospitable.

Rosalie Hale ground her pelvis against Edward Cullen's lap. She was one of San Fran Cisco's elite. Her father was a rich bastard who owned two thirds of the real estate business in the entire city. He was sophisticated, mean, and had money to burn.

Edward had indulged in playing with his heiress daughter, in more ways than the innocent kind. It was the novelty more so than the attraction, although she was a beautiful girl. She was superficial and fake, as if she would melt just as easily as the plastic of a sculpted figurine.

She was artificial.

But she was totally uninhibited, so why shouldn't Edward indulge once more?

He palmed her ass, squeezed it tightly against him and let her arch her back and poke her chest out into his face.

Bella's hand slipped from Jacob's as he opened a door for her. They were in the den. There were sofas, a coffee table, a television and a fireplace. There was a record player in the corner, belting out psychedelic tunes which Bella had never heard of.

What made Bella the most uncomfortable, were the naked bodies sprawled over the carpet, entwined, moving, thrusting...

Bella's eyes widened in shock, wondering if she and Jacob had stumbled in on the wrong room where almost a dozen people were locked in a passionate moment of gargantuan proportion.

"Um..." she turned around but Jacob stopped her.

"It's fine." He said calmly and motioned to the small mini bar in the corner, where there were two people kissing.

At least they still had their clothes on.

Bella skirted the pile of people kissing, touching, moaning. There was a man sitting on the sofa, a woman with her face in his lap. He had blonde hair down to his shoulders and was sipping from a bottle of beer. He had his other hand rested against the back of her head.

Bella couldn't see the woman's face, but she could see the tribal tattoo she had on her lower back. She had beautiful skin, almost the same shade as Jacob's.

Her hair shone black, like the shiny skin of an Egyptian Asp.

Distracted, she didn't notice Jacob approach her again with two drinks in his hands. He handed one to her, and Bella instinctively took a large sip, thirsty. Jacob perked an incredulous brow at her actions and awaited her consequent surprise when she realised she was drinking straight bourbon.

It took her breath away, of course, stinging up and down her throat, stealing her oxygen with it's power.

She coughed and spluttered the acrid liquid out of her mouth, swallowing most of it down with watery eyes.

She wiped her mouth and stared up at Jake who was chuckling into his glass. She playfully slapped him on the arm.

"Is this alcohol?" she demanded in a whisper.

"Well, yeah," Jake answered matter-of-factly.

"And what on Earth are those people doing?" she hissed, turning her face away as it flushed red at the sight of the nude bodies.

She heard them laughing with each other, enjoyment. She wasn't crazy enough to expose herself to so many people at once. She wasn't ready to expose herself to one person yet.

"They're just trying to have some fun, that's all. It happens at parties." He smiled, all white teeth.

He nudged her with his elbow and grinned. Bella smiled back, hesitantly as the statuesque, russet skinned girl walked over to them. The blonde man that had been enjoying himself on the sofa was zipping up his pants. He had no shirt on.

"I'm Leah," she introduced herself, holding her hand out for Jacob to shake.

He took it eagerly.

"I'm Jacob, and this is my friend, Bella." He gave her a shining smile.

Her hands were long and slender, piano fingers, Bella would have described them.

She took Leah's hand without hesitation or disgust. The things this woman did were her own choices and God was all about forgiveness and acceptance of differences.

Even if sex before marriage was a sin.

Bella felt torn by that particular commandment.

"You look young and strapping, Jacob. Can I get you a drink?" she offered, although oddly, she must have known he had one already perched in his right hand.

He nodded anyway, leaving Bella perplexed.

"Wait," she murmured.

Leah smiled kindly and offered her other hand. Bella was a bit intimidated by this woman and her lack of modesty with her breasts beared for the whole room to view. Jacob was staring at them now.

"You're welcome to join us, Bella?" she smirked, linking fingers with the innocent Catholic girl.

"Uh, no thank you. But, Jacob, what are you...?" she trailed off, unsure of who to talk to now that her companion was abandoning her.

"I'll only be a few minutes." He promised her while Leah perked an eyebrow and laughed.

They moved to the sofa and the woman began unbuttoning Jacob's shirt. She unzipped his pants and pulled his briefs down his thighs, aware of the audience but not caring for witnesses, only each other.

Bella was bewildered and she couldn't tear her eyes away from the scene. It was like watching something beautiful and scandalous. Two human beings acting in a completely human way; it was magic, but Bella felt like an intrusion into a private sanctuary these people had created.

If she wasn't joining in, she shouldn't be here.

Jacob was hard, his penis standing at attention as his hands roamed over the naked hips of his new female friend. She bit her lip, kneeling on either side of his lap before sitting down on top of him. Bella was shocked...and completely aroused.

She fanned her face for a moment before fleeing the too-intimate room.

* * *

Go straight to the next chapter


	7. Chapter 7

_Here it is, as promised. So, just read it and nobody get's hurt._ :D

* * *

Bella felt a slight buzz inside of her as the alcohol spread through her system, coating her senses in a lacquer of fatigue and mellow.

Bella carried her empty cup with her into the living room. The crowd was clearing slightly, and she could see through the part in the group that there was another couple being intimate just across the room. They weren't naked, but the woman was on the man's lap. His hands were running up her back and she was bucking her hips against him, as if a simulation of actual love-making.

The woman leaned down further to kiss him, her long waves of blonde hair sweeping down to her bottom.

_Sonny and Cher_ began playing in the other room, flowing through the voices and conversations of people around Bella in a way that made her relaxed.

She swayed a little to the music, watching the blonde woman with a faint curiosity. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and bent her head to kiss the man on the neck, revealing his face to everyone.

_Edward._

Bella couldn't control her emotions. Like her stomach was being knotted up into a small ball, she bent at the waist to catch her breath.

She gasped, dropping her cup onto the pristine carpet by another small wooden table next to an arm chair. The small droplets left in the cup splattered an infinitesimal stain on the pale mint coloured shagpile.

Bella stumbled out of the room before Edward could see her.

Edward was growing tired with Rosalie. He couldn't get it up for her, despite her body, despite her looks, despite her dirty talk.

His cock wouldn't react to her seduction. Luckily she was the only one who was disappointed. Edward just shrugged.

"Go find someone else to grind against," he muttered, shoving her sideways and off his lap.

Bella ran for the exit. She saw a sliding glass door leading out into the small backyard which couldn't be bigger than the size of the living room or den. There were plastic patio chairs, the cushions damp and cold as Bella sat down on one.

She hung her head between her knees, her tears falling in hot contrast to the chilly night outside. At least the low temperature helped sober her slightly. Jacob hadn't come to find her again yet, so she was alone here.

_What a stupid idea._ Bella paused for a moment and stared at the stone under her feet.

"_Fuck,_" she hissed to herself, relishing in the obscene word that fell from her lips.

She said it again, "Fuck." Louder. "Fuck!"

She looked up to the sky, partially obscured by clouds and smog. The stars were concealed from her bright glistening eyes.

Bella drew a parallel; Edward was the carpet, and Bella was the tiny droplet of bourbon. Both small, inconsequential and unimportant.

"Are you alright?" the man with long blonde hair asked from the door.

He carried a full bottle of a clear liquid at his side, cradling it like an infant. He smiled reassuringly at her. He held two plastic cups in the other hand.

"Can I join you?" he asked when Bella didn't answer.

"Sure," she muttered, sniffling, embarrassed.

"Here. Cure your woes, my beautiful friend." He said, sitting close to her on the patio chair and handing her a cup.

She held it between her palms as he unscrewed the bottle and poured the liquid inside.

"You'll be thoroughly gone by the time you finish that." He grinned to himself and Bella nodded, but felt unsure.

"Trust me, whatever you're upset about will go away." He nudged his cup against her's, already filled with the offending substance.

The eraser, to take the pain and hurt away.

The anaesthesia that you could by from the corner shop.

Steeling herself for the burning sensation she knew was coming, Bella downed the liquid quickly. She felt her stomach trying to reject it. She spat a bit of it back into the cup and managed to swallow the rest. She tipped the cup back once more, finishing it with a screwed up face.

She poked her tongue out and coughed against the back of her hand, her eyes watering worse than ever.

The man looked impressed.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" he asked, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Bella. What's yours?" she asked, turning her head and shuddering at the foul taste of the alcohol.

"James." He smirked.

~0~0~

"Just trust me, Bella." James assured his newly acquired conquest.

"I promise this will feel good. Don't worry about everyone else. They won't be watching us."

Bella was uncertain but she felt groggy and lazy, as if whatever she did probably wouldn't matter, and that she would do it anyway, because she could barely feel.

She had no idea how much she'd drunk. More so than before.

She was sitting on the sofa that Jacob had been sitting on before, but she couldn't see him anymore, nor could she find the girl, Leah, that he ran off with.

She sighed and nodded easily, calmly. James leaned forward on the sofa beside her, lifting her legs up onto his lap. He stroked the skin just over her knee as Bella's head lolled to the side.

She smiled lazily, closing her eyes as James licked his lips and pressed his mouth to hers, parting her lips with his own and sliding his tongue inside her mouth. Bella returned the kiss, but she felt like there was a block in her mind. She couldn't push herself into this, she couldn't _feel_ anything.

But she continued, because she knew he wanted to. She felt his hand creep up her leg, over her thigh, back down, then up again, memorising the circuit.

Her stomach felt tingly, but not in the way it did when Edward touched her. She felt slightly nervous and reserved. But this was happening.

"I-I can't," Bella stuttered out. "Can we go somewhere else? Come on, let's go." She said without waiting for a reply.

She moved her legs off of the sofa and onto the floor, grabbing his hand and tripping out the door. She stumbled into the living room where most of the people were passed out. She stopped when she saw the dining room, the big table, the chairs...

"Here." She slurred slightly and didn't understand why.

James sat down on one of the chairs he pulled out from under the table and pulled Bella down on top of him. She obliged and let him do the leading.

"I have something to tell you," Bella murmured.

James chuckled against the white creamy skin of her neck, delectable. His tongue flicked out to taste and he groaned, his jeans tightening.

Bella gasped slightly in surprise, not arousal.

"I don't think I can...make love to you...not yet...I'm...I'm a virgin." She confessed to a stunned James.

"Of course you can, and you will. You're ready, I can feel you..." he whispered, closing his eyes as he buried his face into her chest, nuzzling.

"You're beautiful, and we want each other, why wait, darling?" he pressed, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"I can make you feel good, I swear."

"I know you can. You're very attractive. Everybody here is. And I want to do something. I want to forget him." Bella as beginning to get very loose with her words.

She was admitting to things she shouldn't.

"I wanted to wait til marriage. Will it hurt? I've heard that it hurts. Your first time, I mean. James, will you have pleasure?" she blurted.

James licked the corner of her mouth.

"Of course I will. So will you. And no, it won't hurt. It'll be good." He pledged.

Bella nodded, too trusting.

James was elated that this girl lacked so much know-how of sex. She didn't have a clue.

He lifted her up and sat her on the table, smoothing up her legs with his hands, clammy. Bella shivered and leaned back on her elbows.

She lay back all the way, unable to retain enough strength in her arms to hold herself upright. James smiled to himself, pushing Bella's dress up her legs to reveal her untouched white panties.

He leaned down and breathed in. Bella was too unaware to realise what he was doing, but she was slowly grasping the gravity of the situation.

What if this was too soon? Would she see James again after this? Hadn't she promised herself she had to love someone before she was going to give her virginity away? Bella bit her lip, her head swelling with dizziness.

"I think that maybe we should slow down," Bella breathed.

James stuck his thumbs into the elastic of her panties and pulled them down her thighs, pushing her legs apart when she tried to conceal herself. She was shaking and hesitant. She wasn't resolved on this. This was a mistake. This man would take her innocence and she barely knew him. She possible wouldn't get the chance to later, either. She couldn't allow this.

"Wait a minute, maybe we shouldn't do this...James..." she whispered shakily, her body quivering from the stress her mind was under.

Battling with her own absurd behaviour and goals.

She began pressing her knees together again to prevent him from touching her there, but he pushed them apart.

"Wait, James." She ordered with a louder voice.

"Shh..." he smiled.

A disorderly party-goer, drunk out of his mind stumbled in on them and Bella shrieked.

"Relax, it' just Jacob." James rebuked.

Jacob stood up straight and looked at the pair, one man, and one girl, scared and shaking.

He was hysterical and laughed to himself.

"Jake, wait!" Bella protested as he stumbled back the way he came.

"Wait!" she cried.

James shushed her.

"Honey, it will be amazing, believe me."

Edward was sobering up, although he was barely drunk to begin with. He wouldn't even have a head ache in the morning. He watched as Jacob came around the corner from the dining room, a stupid smile plastered over his face. Edward perked an eyebrow in question, putting his hand out to stop Jacob from passing him.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" he asked curiously with a contemplative frown.

"I brought Bella." He swallowed loudly and concealed a burp with his fist.

He jutted his thumb toward the dining room as Edward gradually began to grasp what he stated so easily.

"Looks like she's getting hooked by James. Missed your chance, huh, Cullen?" he sniggered then burst out laughing.

Edward stirred from his place of motionlessness. Like his feet were bogged down by half-dried concrete, he was shocked and couldn't move.

He heard noises behind the doors, his hearing felt more acute than before, as if his body knew it's other half was being touched by another man in that other room.

Shoving Jacob off to the side, he stalked to the double doors concealing his charge from his eyes. He walked the room with purpose. Edward saw red, like he'd been dipped in some hot, metallic liquid. His insides boiled, his eyes stung and his jaw became as taught as if it was strung together with hot wires.

Everything felt hot, evil and wrong.

He shouldered the doors open and a girl yelped in fright as she struggled with the man standing between her legs. He was missing his shirt and was only wearing jeans. Bella was bare from the waist down, her dress pushed up under her breasts.

She was disoriented and shocked, breathing scarcely and barely moving, as if her muscles couldn't handle the effort. She fell back onto the table with a thud and a moan.

"Get lost, Cullen, we want to be alone." James argued.

Without any forethought about what he was doing, his fist collided quite harshly with James' cheek. He fell to the ground like an anvil as Edward shook his hand out.

He stood over James and reached for Bella who didn't seem to know what was going on at all. She was lost, in a world of liquid amnesia. She would not feel good in the morning, he was sure of it. She whimpered as Edward pulled her panties back up her legs in the lightless room.

He clenched his teeth together and fought the snarls and curses of rage rampaging through his head as he pulled her dress back down her torso. Nobody was supposed to touch her. She wasn't supposed to be here at all.

Stupidly, Edward assumed she wouldn't do anything like this. He assumed that because he was gone, she wouldn't venture out into the world he'd been involved in. But of course she would rebel, of course she would do everything wrong.

Of course she would have someone like James trying to fuck her.

"Bella? Bella. Wake up, baby." He begged, clutching her face in his fingers gently, trying to get a response from her.

She murmured something incomprehensible.

"What the fuck did you do to her?" he barked at James who was cowering away from Edward's threatening glare.

"She got a little drunk, that's all." He said, crawling away.

"A little? She's fucking comatose, what the fuck have you done to her?" Edward demanded in a malicious growl.

James stood up and stepped forward to glance at Bella but Edward stepped towards James and shoved him with two hands, hard in the chest.

He stumbled back and hit the wall, making a slight indentation.

"Back the fuck off, you little prick. Don't ever think of laying a finger on her again. You've done enough." Edward gulped the sick feeling in the back of his throat down, like a dry pill.

"She was willing," James defended weakly, losing the battle.

He was shit scared of Cullen.

Edward seethed, breathing hard, he lunged at James and threw him against the wall.

"Get out. Before I kill you."

He was blazing, all his nerve endings broken, fraying and set on fire. Bella stirred slightly before she passed out entirely.

Edward panicked, shoving James towards the door before he pulled Bella's limp body closer.

"I've got you, Bella." He whispered.

~0~0~

The young man carried his love to his bedroom. She was sleeping it seemed. Her breathing even and spaced, her heart beat strong but not erratic or too vague in tempo.

She was fine, just fatigued and drunk.

Her head lolled over Edward's shoulder as he climbed the endless staircase to the second floor of their house. Like ink, there was darkness on every surface of the house. No light...but Bella was unknowingly, Edward's own little lamp.

His leading light in the thick blackness of life.

Edward kicked his bedroom door open and laid his Bella down on the light blue coverlet. She stirred and raised her arms to him invitingly.

"Don't let me go," she whispered, her eyes prying open.

"I won't." He vowed, running his hand down her calf and around her heel, pulling her shoes off one at a time.

He traced the lines of her bare feet, like the lines of the many lives she's lived, centuries on top of centuries. She was a wise and pure girl. Was it possible to live more than once in the same world and different time? He replaced her feet back on the bed as she squirmed, ticklish, a murmured chuckle vibrating in her throat.

Bella sat up slightly and began wriggling out of her dress, much to Edward's surprise and concern. She threw her dress on the floor and was in nothing but a soft white camisole and her underwear. She flopped back onto the pillows, sighing in comfortable content as Edward froze, picking her dress up off his floor, feeling the warm fabric slide over his fingers.

He toed his own shoes off and shrugged out of his jacket, slinging it over the single chair that sat in the corner of his room. Bella hummed silently as Edward neared the bed, lifting her arms in the air, reaching for the heat of the body that she felt in her proximity.

The body was familiar and adoring, tender, gentle. She knew, in the back of her mind, that she should be angry, but the bitterness of the words she would speak to him with hurt could wait for the morning. It was the calm before the furious storm in which she would demand to know why he left her alone on the street. But the night was silent and filled with a cooling sea breeze of freedom and security within the arms of a man she knew would never lay a rough finger on her body.

Only in consent would he give her his contact, and for that she felt as safe as she had in days.

Edward felt safe, too. He lavished in the sensation of her small body curled next to his, protected from the debauchery of cruel intending cretins. Edward had expected some sort of protest from Bella, given how he'd left things with her that night.

He backed off because he was causing a rift in her family just by being a part of her life. He was corrupting her for no reason other than his own pleasure. Maybe, initially, those were his goals. But to gaze into the bottomless depths of eyes so soulful, trusting and pure, he couldn't go on destroying her.

So he did what he thought was unselfish.

But right now he was so deeply disturbed by the night, that he couldn't bear to let her go home. He couldn't bear the brunt of discipline her father would give her if he knew she'd gone out. He was irrationally paranoid about her safety in her home with limited security, despite the armed officer in the room next to hers.

He just refused to let her be. He was determined to make her his own. No other man would join, no other man would try. Edward was claiming her, even if neither of them knew or understood that.

Edward slid pulled Bella's body closer to his side, registering the line of appropriateness he was undoubtedly stepping over, or rather, leaping over. He had a girl in his bed, which had never been an uncommon occurrence in the past, but felt so alien and unfamiliar to him, that he was nervous as to how to treat the situation.

Bella turned her body on the side, facing him in the dark like a hazy white ghost. Edward lifted his hand hesitantly and stroked her hair back from her forehead.

_All mine._

Bella's hand rested against Edward's hip, and accidentally slipped to his crotch, her finger catching in the fabric around the zipper. Edward squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to imagine her doing other things to him there. Bella made a noise and Edward realised her eyes were open, searching blindly as her eyes adjusted. Acting boldly through the aid of alcohol, Bella moved closer to Edward's face, pressing her lips to his and pulling her body closer as she wasn't strong enough to move his.

He groaned against her mouth, unable to prepare himself for the attack, and the subsequent onslaught of hormones battling with his conscience.

_This is Bella._ He reminded himself unsuccessfully as he pulled her on top of him.

"Edward," Bella whispered against his mouth, her hair curtaining his face.

Edward felt the extreme discomfort of his cock growing insanely hard within his jeans. Bella was free and unaware of everything she was doing. She only knew Edward was here and holding her.

Edward's hands roamed over her waist, his fingers tightening, clenching and loosening on her skin, all the way to her ass.

She straddled him now and Bella could feel the obvious hardness against her centre. Edward was losing his mind with this.

_Remember who you're touching_, his head tried to convince him. _She deserves better. Don't destroy this._

Bella's hands were surprisingly strong as they gripped his shoulders, her hips bucking against his and causing him to lose his thoughts, involuntarily trying to gain friction.

Edward had to stop this. He groaned when he could feel her wetness on his thigh and hated stopping this. Her tongue slid inside his mouth to move against his own, soft, sweet, claiming.

Edward growled slightly as her teeth grazed his lips. But he managed to push her off, gently, but keeping her body flush with his, but their private regions relatively separate.

Edward clenched and unclenched his fists in frustration and tension. They would both deal with it all the next morning.

Everything was as it should be, person to beloved person.

Because he was with her now, and because she was with him; they were collecting their souls together to float side-by-side in the abyss parallel to reality.

In death, they would come together as one, in the heaven above both universes.


	8. Chapter 8

Hey guys *ducks and hides while readers throw fruit* Sorry it's way overdue!

Props to my BETA-labeano2002

xo

* * *

Bella woke with a jolting start, feeling that familiar rush of falling, her stomach flipping and her muscles tensing for the impact of hitting the ground, until she opened her eyes with a gasp of surprise.

She was far from tripping or falling over. She was already horizontal, something heavy and fleshy wrapped around her torso in a vice grip, while another pair of harder more masculine legs were tangled with hers.

She was so deliriously warm in that moment, that it took her a few minutes to realize some things. One, her mouth tasted _foul_, as if someone had made her brush her teeth with bleach and dirt, and God knows what else. Two, her head throbbed like she'd been brained with a two by four. And most importantly, three, she wasn't in her bedroom. In fact, she was anchored quite heavily by a particularly masculine body, in a very unfamiliar bed.

The worst part happened to be the fact that she had no idea how she came to be in this stranger's bed and not her own.

The only thing that kept her from crying out in shock was the scent of the toasty body next to hers, and hands, recognizably large, calloused, and beautiful.

She sucked in a surprised breath before she could help it, a small incomprehensible squeal escaping her lips. She couldn't move to even cover her mouth or to sit up. Edward was _heavy_ and he had his entire arm draped over her mid-section, his legs entwined with hers and his torso pressed quite firmly to her side.

Another quite _substantial_ pressure on her body was that of something long and rock hard, pressing against her thigh. His body twitched as he fell out of his dream and came barreling back to reality with a wordless gawk and tightening of limbs.

His hot breath brushed over her face as he exhaled, the sound an odd mixture of relief and... happiness? Confused at his blasé awakening, she cleared her throat to speak.

"Did we have sex?" was the nagging question on her mind, but probably the most tactless way of asking, and also the stupidest question to ask first.

His reaction was thus, "God, no! No!"

At first she was relieved, then affronted as though the idea sounded repulsive to him—he had been able to walk away once. And then she felt ashamed, as she realized she had just assumed that Edward would take advantage of her when she was inebriated.

And once that acrid thought passed through her mind and out the door, she felt the throbbing headache pierce through her skull, a sullen reminder of drinks consumed a thousand years ago the night before.

It seemed so long ago now. But as she recalled... it was a horrible night all the same.

Edward removed his arm from around her waist sheepishly, as if only just realizing it was there and that he was physically restraining her from moving. But as he did, he noticed the far more... _pressing_ concern, the one constrained in his boxers that was resting conspicuously on his bed neighbors' leg.

He shifted slightly to extricate himself and his embarrassing predicament, before he completely lost it with her lying there, disheveled clothes all askew and hair in disarray.

It was almost like he'd already fucked her, but after he considered it, if he had, he would have _never _let her put her clothes back on. Her warm little body felt so... _nice_ to hold onto through the night that he lamented having to get up and take a cold shower.

Before he could move, she spoke again, her tone anxious but simultaneously reserved, as if she was weighing his answer, but trying not to care too much.

"Did you have sex with that girl?" she asked in a small voice, leaning on her elbow with her fingers rubbing her temple.

"What girl?" was his automatic response.

She scoffed and winced as the sound grated against the nerves around her temples and above her ears.

"The girl you were kissing at the party! I saw you!" she hissed, unable to raise her voice any further.

Her throat was too parched to speak louder.

"I barely touched her. I couldn't, and what's with the third degree, _I _should be asking you what the hell you were doing there! What the fuck kind of stunt you were trying to pull getting that drunk?" He shook his head in obvious exasperation.

"How did you even get there?" he added with prodding eyes and scrutinizing posture.

"Jacob brought me," she replied, somewhat matter-of-factly.

A muscle in his jaw jumped as he raised his hands together to crack his knuckles. She wondered if that was supposed to look threatening. Maybe he had bad joints.

Regardless, he didn't look in the least bit pleased.

"And he just left you alone?" he demanded, his hands dropping to his sides as he pushed himself to lean against the headboard, a terse line to his mouth that coincided with his clipped tone.

Bella felt her face heat up as the hazy memories struck her with their explicitness.

"He met a girl, and... I left," she explained quietly, rubbing her forefinger against a rather odd looking bruise on her forearm.

She felt perplexed as to how she got it...

"So he thought he'd keep an eye on you while some chick went down on his cock?" he sneered, disgusted; at who it was directed, Bella wasn't certain.

But she didn't like him talking to her like that, like he was mad at her, disgusted with her.

She dropped her eyes back to her arm, prodding and examining in case she accidentally started to weep.

"I'm gonna fucking kill him," he growled under his breath as Bella looked up at him again.

"_I _left the room. It was getting a little too crowded... and I... got a drink... and then..." Bella frowned, knowing she owed her lack of recall from the party was due to the booze.

But she was too stubborn to admit she didn't remember, because there was something, dark and hazy, cold and threatening that was stuffed behind her eyes, burned in her retinas. The only problem was that the alcohol created a block that she couldn't seem to get past.

Edward had folded his arms across his chest, and Bella failed when she tried not to stare at his biceps, the hard planes of his chest and his toned stomach, the trail of hair around his naval that disappeared between the dips in his pelvis.

She chewed her lip and looked into his blazing eyes again, taught with an extreme self-restraint.

"Do you remember what happened after that?" was his next icy question.

She shook her head, as he leaned forward to lift her chin up with his fingers. She followed his gaze as it dropped back down to her battered arms. He looked somewhat apologetic suddenly before he slowly, carefully hiked up the hem of her wrinkled camisole, her hips colored with the same angry purple bruises.

She gasped, where were these coming from? And what could have happened for her to acquire them?

_Blonde hair._

She blinked then shook her head, staring at her sorry flesh.

_Blue eyes. Angry. Vodka. Outside. Dark. Dining room. Table._

_The dining room table._

"No," she murmured. "No."

Feeling that maybe if she said it enough, the memories would disappear like the fog through a swamp once the sun rose.

"Who did this?" She cocked her head to the side, her lungs filling with air that burned right through to her stomach as she remembered and answered her own question, "James."

There was a perceptible shift in Edward's demeanor; he went from cold, calculating to warm and comforting. His attitude changed in the blink of an eye, within a second, he had taken Bella's clammy fingers away from prodding her bruised side, and replaced it with his warm palm before he laid her back down beside him.

"I know you don't want to think about it, but... do you remember what he did?" His voice was gravel against glass, sharp, cutting and husky.

"I don't think I want to," she whispered. His eyes tightened at the catch in her voice.

He squeezed her tightly, thinking over and over again that he should have been there to stop him. While Bella's mind was scattered like a broken china plate, her memories sliced at her heart with a sting and a whisper of truth.

"He tried to take advantage of me," she stated, surprised at the calmness in her voice.

Beneath, she was whirling with disappointment, disgust, fear, and rage.

"Do you remember how far he got?"

"Please, Edward," she squirmed, moving her clammy hands to cover her face as she felt a dry, sore lump surge up her throat, a painful blister, a disguised sadness.

"I don't want to think about it, about _him_," she whispered into her palms before he deftly pulled them away.

"You don't have to. You can when you want. Right now, you can think about anything, and I'll be here. I'll never let you down again, I promise. I don't want you to lose yourself." A kiss to her forehead and the raging sea of anguish was wavering into content.

Safety.

"So from now on, don't go to parties like those unless you have someone reliable with you. And remind me I need to kick Jacob's ass." He shifted next to her, so she sat forward, wrapping her arms around her knees.

Edward maneuvered himself so his hips were facing away from Bella, his morning wood hidden, embarrassment avoided. He threw her a sheepish smile as he wove out of the sheets to sprint to the bathroom adjoining his bedroom. He took a few steps forward—

"You put our painting up on the wall?" Bella asked in disbelief.

She hadn't bothered to take a look around, and as it was attached to the wall above their heads, she didn't realize it was there at all. But as she turned her body fully to take it all in, Edward cursed a string of unmentionables under his breath, as he realized how creepy this probably seemed to her. He had an imprint of her naked body on his wall; an intensely erotic splash of color in the form of her exquisite physique.

But Bella, lovely, innocent Bella, may just see it as weird.

"Far out..." she murmured, in a curious breath, staring wide-eyed at the multicolored body painting.

Edward smiled despite his embarrassment, instead focussing on the smooth line her body made as she curved her body, craning her neck and stretching up from a sitting position so she was kneeling on the bed, her camisole a barely-there veil over her puckered nipples.

He swiftly clasped his hands in front of his crotch, although the ensuing tent pitched in his pants would not be easily covered.

"I didn't know you kept it." She grinned, laughing slightly, catching herself, blushing while biting her lip.

_If she even knew how desirable she was... _Edward thought._ Maybe she'd know how to take care of herself._

She couldn't contain her giddiness at the little memento of their day together, and the fact that just Edward's doing made her smile after last night swelled his heart with pride and possessiveness.

He smirked before jutting his thumb towards the bathroom.

"I'm just going for a shower, I'll be out in a minute; make yourself comfortable... and try to think of an excuse to tell your parents why you were gone the entire night."

Bella blanched, realization an acrid taste on her tongue before the antidote that was Edward's lips, touched hers. They lingered, his mouth stretched into a smile, before he turned and closed the door behind him.

Bella, torn, lonely and uncomfortable; slumped against the wall, staring at the off-white colored door concealing Edward from her. One rash decision later, and she was on her feet, closing the distance between herself and the door, jumping in surprise as she heard the faucets squeak, and the water beginning to run. She didn't understand why she did it, why she so abrupt and confident all of a sudden.

She leaned her forehead against the cool door, feeling the bite of the morning air and the chilly absence of his body heat. But as she closed her eyes and felt her sight blacken into slithers of memory from the previous night, she understood...

_Hot and cold all over her body, her head felt like it was made of lead. Rough, sweaty hands ran over her body, pushing her dress up her thighs until she felt him between her legs. She was squirming uncomfortably, feeling more like an object and not a person, a girl, a woman. She was pushing her arms at his chest, weakly defending herself from the heavy body leaning over hers. Hands caught hers, and she made a noise of pain as he twisted them away, grabbing at her arms to restrain her. She didn't want this! He had to stop! James had to stop!_

_A screech of fear, and then a loud banging, and replacing the disgusting claws on her thighs were those of her savior..._

_Warm, inviting, safe—and then she felt home, his breath was hot and familiar to her flesh, a reminder of what was real, secure and _right.

She turned the brass door knob, pushing to make a gap big enough for her to fit through inconspicuously. Steam filled the room, fogging the mirror and concealing her reflection which she would have assumed to be beet red, but felt no embarrassment about it at all.

She wiped her hand over the glass and saw her wide eyes staring back at her, anxious to glance over at the opaque shower curtain separating her from Edward. She lifted her camisole from her body, the moisture making it stick to her skin before she carefully folded it and placed it on the edge of the sink then stepped out of her panties. She was neat and staking claim to her position in this man's life.

Her body sang to his, a quiver running through her skin, into her muscles and absorbing through her bones. It wasn't just on a physical level; she loved his mind, his freedom, his light. She felt him touch her not only on her cheek, or lips—she felt him in her head, her heart and to the depths of her soul without even trying.

She was taking an unimaginable leap from being infatuated with him, to actually barging into the category of love. Dangerous territory; she'd told herself that before. You don't fall for the rebellious boys, you wait until college to find a husband. But you don't choose love, it chooses you. Bella felt an insane gratitude to whatever cycle of events or fate led her to Edward.

And so she stepped with cautious but determined feet over the tiles to the shower. She saw his silhouette behind the plastic, the water cascading down his face, his body...

She was slick with anticipation, a wanton ache between her legs as she thought about him...

"Edward?" she murmured, and saw his body go rigid and still.

"Bella?"

"Can I... come in?" she ventured with a shaky voice.

"I, uh—what?" he said, his voice louder over the noise of the spray.

He opened his eyes, wiping his hands over his face to see clearly as the curtain was pulled back slightly. Unabashed about his nudity, but not wanting to make her feel nervous, he covered himself with a face cloth, although it didn't seem to do much, as his cock knew exactly what direction to point in, hard as rock and impossible to miss.

A slender, pale leg slipped into the tub, a hand reached out to catch the wall to steady herself before the other leg followed. Bare skin, all bare...

Edward gulped and didn't say anything as the water ran over him, he could do nothing to conceal his arousal, or shock.

"What are you doing?" he whispered.

She chewed on her lip and smiled coyly.

_Since when did she fucking smile like that? Oh good God, Jesus Christ..._

Bella had no experience, sexually; only the preliminary lessons she'd had with Edward, but she was mostly following instinct at that point. Instinct told her to reach out and touch him, her slim fingers wrapping around his length followed by a gentle tug that had Edward's knees buckling under him, a horrid curse flowing from his lips and falling into the stream of water.

Somehow, the use of the profanity seemed to spur her on; this way she knew what she was doing was right, as he unconsciously bucked his hips, sliding his penis against her hand and groaning. She grinned triumphantly, blowing relief through her lungs.

Edward on the other hand knew that he was going to hell, but thought that taking a ride like this on the way down was completely fucking worth it.

She squeezed harder, starting a rhythm of strokes that Edward was mewling over, his body moving close to hers, his hands acting as magnets to her skin, skin so soft that it was begging to be touched.

"Bella—wh-wh-you d-don't have to do this," he panted, clenching his jaw as she kissed his chest, still rubbing maddeningly skillfully along his cock.

"I want to," she murmured and looked up at him, blinded through the spray, "to thank you."

"You shouldn't... I shouldn't make you—oh, fuck!" he snarled, backing her into the tiled wall as she pumped harder, surprised by his movements.

"I want to make you feel the way you make me feel. Please let me." She pressed another kiss to his collar bone, his chin, until he caught her mouth with his as he ran his hands over the soft, delicious mounds of her perky breasts.

He wanted to be in her; to mark his name on her flesh like an invisible tattoo, a beautiful silence of feelings. A sentiment that could not be seen, but simply known by everyone else.

He wanted to write love all over her body with the power of his.

But not now...

Not here, not after tonight. She needed time to reacclimatize.

His breath shook as she slowed; he thought it was punishment for letting her do it in the first place. That is, until she slid from his grip and put her mouth to the tip of his aching cock.

"Bella! Fuck! Yes!" He was supposed to say no, but what could he do?

Tell her to stop? Absolutely. But could he do that to his penis? Absolutely not.

He was scrambled, and begging for a distraction that wouldn't come; he'd definitely do _that_ first. She covered his entire head with her mouth, her tongue circling before she let him further inside, and the heat had him; her lips soft and sexy working him over. He growled desperately to warn her he was coming, but she didn't move away and he burst into her throat.

He backed up and she let him go, wiping the back of her hand over her mouth with a grin and wicked brown eyes.

"Bella—I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..." Edward apologized, trying to steady himself and level his mind.

She licked her lips.

"I liked it..." she offered shyly, back to her old self before she crossed her arms over her chest, the water creating a shine over her skin.

Her body was a sight to behold, and Edward felt then, a shudder of certainty lock something into place inside him. She would be worshipped.

No matter what, when, or how.

She was an unintentional entity of solace for him, a cause for worry and deep seeded possessiveness, a woman who was more important to him than his own life. She was a woman, not a girl.

He reverently, took her in his arms, pressing his lips to hers in a sensual promise of 'you're special to me'. Actions spoke more than their words could; a tumbling succession of orgasms achieved with Edward's hands, namely.

He parted her moist lips with his fingers, inserting one while rubbing her clit with his thumb, relaxing her muscles to keep her from feeling pain. Her mouth agape with the surprise of what he could do to her, bring out of her, he couldn't smile, just stare so intensely that it made her toes curl.

A moment mirroring the day they made the painting. The throb between her legs was sated, twice, the only throb left was the one that beat inside the iron cage of her chest.

~0~

Bella hadn't realized how early they had actually woken up that morning. As if God hadn't wanted her to be caught, she found the house dark and unstirred. The doors still locked, a key was the antidote, slipped under the welcome mat before she closed it again. Her father hadn't set an alarm for work, so he was still fast asleep, and if Charlie didn't wake up, neither did Renee.

She was free from consequence; but she didn't know how long that luck would last, so she'd keep the midnight trips and early morning rendezvous to a minimum.

~0~

A young girl of the tender age of seventeen approached Bella in the courtyard at lunch. Bella was making her way across from the office after convening with the principal all morning about her subjects, enrollment and her schedule, to eat in the cafeteria.

"Hey, you must be the new girl? I'm Jane." She grinned mischievously, a glint of foreboding in her eyes that Bella mostly ignored.

She was in no position to judge at the moment, especially when she hadn't made any friends yet at all.

Bella tugged at the sleeve of the grey, woolen sweater she wore as part of the uniform. Necessary, but ugly.

"Yeah—I'm-I'm Bella Swan." She took Jane's extended hand, felt the clamminess of Jane's and was swift to take her hand back.

Jane was blonde, and her hair was long, pushed back with a thick, velvet headband. Her wide blue eyes were piercing into Bella's conscious, as if she was reading an ancient scripture that was difficult to decipher.

Jane linked arms with her new progeny and smiled all the way up the stone steps, out of the windy atrocity that was the weather today, and into the warmth of the eating hall. An enormous, stone structure that resembled a church. Bella let herself be dragged by her new friend, feeling only a haze of uncertainty as Jane forced her down in a seat at a full table.

Bella grasped her ponytail with both hands and pulled it over her shoulder, nervously curling it around her finger; she found the motion somewhat comforting as it was reminded her of how Edward played with her hair. She knew no one here, save for the teaching staff, and respectable school nurse she met this morning—she had the feeling she was in for a long, strenuous day.

There were other girls to her right and left, and she felt her nerves fray at the edges. The girl on the right introduced herself as Rosalie, a bubbly blonde, all cherry lips and stinging smiles. She looked painfully familiar, but then Bella thought, all these girls looked like each other. The girl on the left was called Alice, and she was very pretty. She had blonde hair curled into a stylish little bob that almost made her look a bit boyish. Despite that, Bella felt envious of her edgy do', but deduced she'd never have the courage to part with her beloved brown locks. Across from her was another girl, a strawberry blonde, named Tanya. She looked at Bella as though she were beneath her.

"Wow, I really love your hair, Bella," Jane said from behind her, carrying a tray with four apples on it and plates of unidentifiable stew.

"Thank you," she smiled, blushing.

Bella passed on the stew, but took a shiny red apple, twirling it in her palm and pulling absently at the stalk.

"The apple matches your cheeks," Rosalie grinned, biting into her own with a slightly vicious force.

"Oh, uh..." Bella didn't know how to reply, so she did as she was taught. "...uh, thank you?"

Alice was mostly quiet, and stayed that way for a while; Bella realized the girl barely got two words in between Tanya, Rosalie and Jane. It seemed she was the lower ranking of the pack of four and Bella felt a camaraderie with her.

Rosalie shared a look with Jane before she gasped and squealed, pointing to Bella's skirt.

"Spider!" she screeched, making everyone at the heavy wooden table, jump.

Bella, terrified of spiders leapt up from her seat only to have her head crash into something hard, a warm oozing liquid falling onto her hair. Her cry resounded through the large hall while Rosalie barely contained her laughter. Bella whipped her head around to see a boy with combed brown hair and a smirk, still holding a lunch tray, but with his food upturned over her, soaking into her new clothes and running in disgusting sticky trails down her face and neck.

She pressed her lips together, standing up gingerly before bursting into tears as she ran to the girl's bathroom; an unsavory residue on her skin, and a first day at Lowell High School that she'd never forget.


End file.
